


Spice Pop

by gh0ste



Category: Ouran High School Host Club - All Media Types
Genre: Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Honestly a little bit of a self-insert too, I'm Sorry, Like, M/M, OC, Really creative insults, Slow Burn, Sooooo much swearing, Swearing, This is a clusterfuck
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-06
Updated: 2018-04-19
Packaged: 2019-02-28 22:37:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 34,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13281309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gh0ste/pseuds/gh0ste
Summary: Sugar, spice, and everything nice my ass. I would give up my entire fortune just to get away from my dick father, and I'll move half-way across the world just for good measure too. But out of the frying pan into the fire, now I'm stuck with six assholes and the only sane person I've met. Maybe I shouldn't have gotten out of bed today...





	1. Chapter 1

“Tyler, you dumbass bitch fuck, you better get your ass back here before I toast it with my fire bending skills!” I hollered as I chased the boy in question down the street.

“Well, if you want your notebook back, you’ve gotta catch me first! Or else I might reeaaaddd it!” he yelled behind him as he took off towards my house. We both knew how unfair this was considering he was the fastest kid on this side of the Mississippi.

Or on any side of the Mississippi for that matter.

“Do that and I swear I’ll castrate you with a branding iron” He ignored my threat and instead turned around and began running backwards, much to my humiliation, as I _still_ couldn’t catch him.

“Is that a threat or a promise? Because either way you wouldn’t go through with it. I’ve read what you write in here and you, my dear, have some explaining to do,” he dramatically batted his eyelashes at me and began spouting falsities of what he presumed my notebook would contain in a high-pitched cliché female voice:

_‘Dear Diary~ Tyler looks sooooo dreamy~, I think we should get married~!’_

_‘Dear Diary~ my mother always told me to follow my dreams, so I think I’ll follow Tyler home today~!_

_Dear Diar-‘”_ I quickly cut him off.

“In your wettest dreams dude.” He simply grinned and turned back around to sprint the rest of the way, positively leaving me in the dust.

 

As we reached the front gate to my house, he turned around and immediately broke out laughing when he saw me lying on my back, panting like I’d just run a marathon.

Which, you know, I basically had.

“Hey don’t you laugh at me! Running is fucking difficult, and we can’t all be Usain Bolt’s metaphorical cousin.” When he just started laughing even harder I stepped it up a notch. “I swear I will bitch slap you into a different fanfiction, don’t even try me!” I wheezed, out of breath from laughing so hard, as I lunged for the notebook in his hand, which he quickly raised over his head.

“Your words are so hurtful, I don’t know if I should give this back,” He teased, still dangling my notebook over my head, just out of my reach. And that’s a _very_ hard thing to do, given that I’m 5’10” and all. But of course, Tyler the Tyrant had to be 6’3”.

Bitch.  

As I was bear wrestling him for possession of my baby, the front door of my house opened.

Well, some call it a house… others call it a mansion.

I personally prefer “house;” it seems more normal and a _lot_ less intimidating.

“Kaeden Colleen Hale! Stop that childish rough-housing _this instant_! Get in here. You have a visitor.”

Oh nuggets.

That voice was my father’s. Although not much taller than myself, Alexander Hale II (the _second_ goddammit, and don’t you forget it) was a force to be reckoned with. Head of the Hale family and its fortune in the field of medical sciences and technologies, my father learned at a _very_ young age what it takes to be the leader of a world-renowned business. He tried to pass his knowledge on to me.

Key word: _tried_.

It stuck like deep-fried cupcakes to a wet window in August.

Listen, I’d much rather spend my time screwing around with “commoners” than learning how to be a “proper lady.” The only time I would need those skills is for when I have dinner with the goddamn President, Tom Hiddleston, or Jesus.

Which is _never_ going to happen.

And thus, Kaeden Hale determines “proper lady” etiquette not needed for basic daily function.

The high life just seemed so stuffy and boring. Say this, do that, don’t piss off this person. So, as most children with overly strict parents do, I went the complete opposite direction in a motion of “fuck you” against my dad. I decided to try my luck at being a “commoner.” Needless to say it fits like a glove. I spend my time being a fuck-up with Tyler and the other neighborhood weirdos who lived in the rather plain middle class neighborhood not too far away. All of my multi-millionaire (or *cough* occasional billionaire) neighbors complained about that part of our sub-division because “It lowered their property’s value.”

No bitch, me spray-painting Miley Cyrus twerking her flat ass on your five-car garage would lower your property’s value.

Not that I've... done... that...

I seriously haven't but what a nice thought.

Really, I don’t think my father couldn’t express his disdain for my “alternate lifestyle” more often than he already did, but I wouldn’t put it past him. I mean, the man refused to be called “Jr.” and insisted on being called “the second” because _it sounded richer_.

Jesus tap-dancing Christ father, _why?_

All aside, in the moment said parental figure rather rudely interrupted our fierce battle of wills, Tyler froze at the sight of the _one_ man that could terrify that egotistical pancake into submission. I always thought it was hilarious considering his usually impish attitude and knee-jerk reactions to being challenged, but there was no playing around, joking, or kidding with my father.

Not now. Not ever. 

So in retrospect we can all see what a _great_ childhood I had and the _strong_ bond I formed with him.

Moving on.

I really didn’t want to risk sending him on a tyrannical rampage, so I threw Tyler an apologetic look as he handed over my notebook and said my goodbyes. I was surprised my father took the time to physically retrieve me himself rather than send a maid or something (but it’s probably because I don’t listen to them for shit), and it was then I recalled his earlier words.

“You said I had a visitor?” I inquired skeptically. The _last_ “visitor” I had was a shrink when I was 9 because I had an imaginary friend named Percy and my father feared for my sanity.

In retrospect, I _probably_ shouldn’t have told him that Percy’s nickname was “orphan crippler” buuuuut…

You know, shit happens.

“Yes I did. Now come inside so you can meet them.” My father stated with an odd glint in his eye. I tended to not pay attention to his body language because it was usually unreadable, but I could almost tell what this was. It was...smug. Victorious.

Oh god, I can’t _wait_ to meet who’s sitting in my living room.

* * *

 “Is it another shrink?”

“No.”

“Is it a fireman?”

“No.”

“Is it the 433rd member of the House of Representatives?”

“What? No!”

“Is it the President?”

“I suppose…in a way.”

“In what way?”

“Hush Kaeden, you’ll met him soon enough. ” He smirked as another evil glint appeared in the evil man’s evil eye.

I rolled my eyes and groaned.

We stopped in front of the door to our living room, where he turned to me and raked his eyes over my form in distaste at my all-too casual outfit.

“Change it.” He ordered.

“No.” I answered defiantly.

“Yes.” He pushed.

“ _No_.” I pushed back. We sat at an impasse, glaring at one another before he threw his hands up in the air in defeat.

“Fine, do what you want, but don’t come crying to me when things don’t work out.” I was elated by my small victory and immediately rocketed back to Earth by his disclaimer. When things don’t work out? The fuck? What things? I don’t like this one bit…

* * *

When we walked in, my still positively fuming father took his seat next to a very official looking middle-aged Japanese man with a dark stern mustache and gotee to match his salt and pepper hair, his glasses resting upon his well-defined nose and high cheek bones. 

 _Helloooooooooo_ there obvious business partner of my father’s whose pristine opinion of this family I just abolished in about 2.4 seconds.

“Yo.” I threw up out an instinctive peace sign.

At this rate I think it’s safe to say I’ve already pissed my father off to the point of no return between Tyler and my attire, and this dude probably already thinks I need to be burned at the stake.

“Kaeden… Why don’t you… join us?” my father managed to hiss out a semi-normal sounding sentence between aggravated breaths and grinding teeth, but the look he was giving me was nothing short of a death glare.

Oh man, his face was redder than a 5th grader in a Sex Ed class. And it was _wonderful_.

“Sure.” I took a seat across from my father and gave the man a tight-lipped smile, attempted (but probably failing) to appear like I actually gave a dick.

“Kaeden, this is a business partner of mine, CEO of the Ootori Group, Mister Yoshio Ootori. Mister Ootori, this is the daughter I’ve been telling you about, Kaeden.”

Woah.

Woah. Woah. Woah. Woah.

Woah.

Pause.

Rewind.

He’s been _talking_ to a _business partner_ about _me_? Do you know how rare it is for him to even acknowledge the existence of a daughter let alone have a full-blown conversation about me? Damn. He must either think this Ootori guy is dumb, insane, or really, really accepting to be able to tell others about me.

Or, the more likely option, he lied. I wonder what lies I have to live up to? “Perfectly mannered, well groomed, exemplary youth of America?”

Oh god, that sounds like the tagline for the Republican youth association.

“Ah yes, I have heard many great things, Miss Hale.” He stated in a slightly dissenting voice, snapping me back into reality. It was with that sentence I concluded, _yes, my father lied through his fricken pearly whites._ Though, hearing Mister O’s disdainful tone, this fact seemed pretty obvious to everyone present.

I decided it was time for a little chaos, as he seemed like a man who wasn’t acquainted with its gentle sucker-punch. He asked for it.

I fluently sat in the chair across from him, swept my right leg over my left one, and looked him dead in the eye with the widest grin I could muster. I realize that I probably looked like a Chucky doll but that’s fine; creepy is just as good as anything else.

“Ah, yes. I am quite glad that my darling father has given me the opportunity to meet such a high-class businessman such as yourself. Honestly, the variety and quality of the Ootori company’s services are quite impressive and I must say that it is an honor to be able to meet the mastermind behind the magic. I am very glad to hear your daughter’s engagement is going grandly, and that your three sons are doing fine as well. I do believe that your third son is around my age, though I am sure he has accomplished far more than I. I am sure all of your children will be well fit to run the company in the future, no matter who you choose.” I finished my sickly-sweet monologue with another beaming smile that was _just_ fake enough to make you wonder if I was being sarcastic.

 _What_? Did you honestly think I had _no_ idea he was coming today? I mean, gossip spreads like wildfire in the Hale household, especially when your talkative workers like to speak loudly near the pantry you hide in to gorge yourself on cookies.  

I just _Googled_ the dude. (Shout out to Larry Page and my homeboi Jesus for Google).

My borderline eidetic memory came in handy here, but I didn’t think I’d actually have to recite any of the information I’d found. I didn't think I'd actually be _meeting_ him. And though I’m clearly not looking to conform here, the chance to prove this dickwad wrong just _once_ was too great to resist.

I sat back, awaiting a reaction. My father was no longer angry at my previous behavior, or so I hoped, and was simply gaping at me.

Score: 1 for the delinquent; 0 for authori-tah.

Mister Ootori merely raised his eyebrows at my response, but hey, I’ll take it. At least it’s _something._

Before my father could voice his response to my rather _elaborate_ performance, O-man started his own rebuttal.

“Well, _someone_ has done their homework. Yes, I indeed have a son your age, Miss Hale, and in fact, that is what brought me here.” He cleared his throat and shifted his gaze away from me and over to the far side of the living room, where I failed to notice the third Ootori son, dick deep in a plain black notebook a bit like mine.

Except mine is covered in graffiti, stickers, doodles and _imagination_.

But hey, other than that, they’re similar.

He looked up from his obviously very intensive brainstorming session to meet my eyes with his onyx ones.

I saluted comically, completely dropping my proper façade. I’d proven my ability to form an intelligent response, and now, I shall live in the land of clusterfuckery.

He simply reached his hand out for a handshake, which I vehemently shook until he decided he’d had enough, at which point he had to forcibly remove his hand from my steel grasp.

“Ha. Yes. It is nice to meet you Miss Hale.” He stated with a strained smile that stopped miles short of his eyes as he retracted his hand into the safety of the pocket of his obviously designer slacks.

He was the type of kid who I would specially order a look-a-like Barbie for so he could have a twin just as fake as he is. I would bedazzle that bitch up.

Goddamn fake rhinestones shimmering like your fake ass smile.

I continued onwards with the conversation nonetheless.

“Likewise. …Kyoya?” I asked straining to remember the name of the last son. I didn’t think I’d be quizzed _that_ intensely. I figured that once it was made obvious that I was a useless member of this family, they’d just let me leave and be a fuck-up somewhere else. Guess not. Whatever, more fun for me I suppose.

“Yes, you _did_ do your homework it seems. Though I did as well.”

“ _Really_ now?” I raised an eyebrow challengingly. What did this boring piece of off brand bread know about me?

“Yes.” He snapped open his uncreative notebook (at least it wasn’t green, because then it would’ve been even _less_ creative).

 _Focus_ , Kaeden.

This dude may or may not have top-secret super classified information on you. Like about that one time in the 3rd grade when you got a “needs improvement” (read: “F”) on your report card and you legitimately thought your father was going to kill you, so you and a few of your friends held a funeral for you at recess. They picked flowers and grass and let them blow away in the wind. You cried.

No. Shit. Stop. _Focus_.

“Kaeden Colleen Hale, 16 years old, born May 20th in Boston, Massachusetts. You moved to San Diego, California when you were 11. Attended a private girls school out of country during your elementary years but you now attend a public high school here in town…” At that his eyes narrowed and he looked over his glasses at my father, almost demanding an explanation.

“Sh-she _insisted_ …” He stammered out, hoping it was enough to pass as an acceptable answer. What a bitch. Kyoya glanced back at me, perhaps surprised that I was able to get my way with such a superpower in the business world.

“What can I say? I’m a manipulative bitch.”

“Clearly. As far as relationships go you surround yourself with people, but the only true connection you hold is with Tyler Alvarado, your best friend.” He looked at me with a mockery of pity on his face, as if to say ‘aren’t you pathetic?’

I snorted.

“Like you’re one to talk. I’m about 300% sure the only relationships you have are professional ones. Are you even capable of human emotion?” I retorted. He glared at me but made no move to address my outburst.

“You have been diagnosed with asthma and are allergic to penicillin and walnuts, you struggle in English but excel in math and science, and you have a short criminal record but a long list of transgressions against the local neighborhood patrol. Your father has remarried twice, but has just recently divorced his third wife. You are currently the only heir to the family title, but it really doesn’t seem like you’re going to do much with it if you do receive your inheritance.”

“Oh so you wanna talk about inheritances do you? Or maybe your lack of one?” Sweet burn @Kaeden.

He glared at me and went to continue with more details for this little Discovery Channel documentary, but I decided that I’d had enough.

“O-kayy. I think we’re done with _that_ little fact session. Thank you for that, bud.” Okay. So _maybe_ he did do his homework.

At least he didn’t mention any self-held funerals from when I was 10.

That’s a plus.

“You’re good though. Would you like me to give you a gold star for your achievements… you know… because no one else does?” Yeah I’m sure he’s never heard _that_ one before.

But seriously, if there’s one thing I’ve learned about rich people it’s that if you’re not the first-born and a male, you really don’t matter. I hoped that I had offended him enough for this conversation to be over soon.

He kept his mouth stretched into a thin line and continued glaring at me.

“ _Kaeden_.” My father warned, concernedly glancing in Mister Ootori’s direction. The man looked quite amused. Like he was watching a goddamn tennis match, or something. 

“Feisty one you’ve got there,” he commented. I still had no idea why my father insisted I meet them. Unless he _wanted_ all relations with this family to be utterly annihilated, what was the point of including me?

Kyoya cleared his throat, seeming to have recovered from my earlier insult.

“Let me reintroduce myself.” Kyoya stuck out his hand again, which I decided to actually take like a civilized human being to balance out my dumbassery of the day. He bent to kiss the top of my hand like we were in the Victorian Era or some shit before saying,

“I am Kyoya Ootori…your fiancé.”


	2. Chapter 2

I choked on my saliva.

“Ha,” I pretended to clean out my ears, “I must not have heard you correctly because it _almost_ sounded like you just said you’re my fiancé.”

“But, _my dear_ , that’s exactly what I just said.” Kyoya stated slyly without looking up from his notebook.

“Oh _sure_ , when’s the wedding?” I rhetorically asked in a sarcastic voice.

“Sometime in the next few years I believe, right after high school is through would be preferred.” My father answered matter-of-factly.

And then I choked. **_Again_**. I even started coughing a little.

“Y-You…You’re _serious_ aren’t you?” I gasped out between hacks.

“ _Of course_ , Miss Hale. Our companies have been collaborating for many years in the medical field, and what better way to seal our partnership than with marriage?” My apparent soon-to-be “father-in-law” stated as it were the most obvious fact in the whole world.

“Well, while that _is_ a fantastic world domination plan and all… no thanks?”

“Kaeden!” My father scolded, “It is not your place to decide.”

“ _Excuse me?_ It’s not _my_ place to decide whom _I_ marry? What is this, the 17 th century? Has half the population been killed off by bubonic plaque recently?” I was met with silence, “No? Didn’t think so! It is fucking two thousand and _whatever_. I will marry who I goddamn please. If I want to marry a stripper, or a professional beard groomer, or… or my fucking _left foot_ , I will, and _you_ can’t stop me!” I yelled with a look of utter disbelief on my face.

My father threw _another_ apologetic glance towards the _still_ fucking amused businessman and his obviously bored son.

“Kaeden Colleen Hale you will marry Kyoya Ootori and that is the end of it!” My father angrily spat.

“ _No that is not the end of it_! You cannot _make_ me marry this douche canoe! Legally, you can’t! I refuse!” I threw back, my voice gaining a shrill, high-pitched quality.

“Douche canoe…?” Kyoya chuckled under his breath.

“What’re you laughing at?” I snapped rather harshly. I mean, he’s kind of a dick, but I suppose he’s being forced into this as well, so I could do to be a _bit_ kinder, I guess.

“Well, I feel it’s ironic because most girls would _kill_ to marry the likes of me, and when presented with the opportunity, you vehemently reject it. How odd. It’s not like you have much to offer either.” He smirked at me.

Just fucking kidding, I could do to treat him like the herpes superhighway he is.

Fuck that kindness shit.

“Oh really now, you self-righteous narcissistic bastard? I wouldn’t marry you even if you were the _last man on Earth_. I’d become Lesbolord, and be queen of the lesbians before that happens.” I glared at the increasingly widening smirk painted on his perfect features.

“Oh I’m _sure_.” He spouted before returning his gaze to his notebook. It was my father who then commanded the spotlight.

“Kaeden, _I swear_ , if you reject this marriage…I…I’ll…” My father searched for the correct threat, though there wasn’t one, because no force on Heaven, Earth, or the Internet could make me marry someone I didn’t pick for myself. When he finally found his voice again it came out in a low growl.

“I swear… I’ll _disown_ you.” I stared at him in disbelief.

Oh shit. Whoop there it is.

Mildly shocked (and hurt, though I’d _never_ admit that) that he’d go to such extreme lengths to please this business partner of his, I decided to handle this new development with some good old _rebellion_ , the only defense mechanism I could muster at the moment.

“Whoop _there_ it is. I knew you’d do some pretty crazy shit to keep your company on top, but _this_? **_Seriously_**? At least today has been a learning experience for me, right?” I turned to the Ootori pair. “Today I learned that the Ootoris are a bunch of sociopathic narcissistic assholes,” I turned back to my father. “ _and_ I learned that _my own father_ values his company over me, his flesh and blood.” I was pissed. I know we haven’t had the best relationship, but I was his _daughter_ , not some business asset.

I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes.

“Kaeden…” his voice softened slightly at the physical manifestation of my pain, but I wiped it away before getting ready to unleash another level of hell on those who stood before me. It was a slight slip in my tough character, but it _wouldn’t_ happen again.

“I apologize _babe_.” I sighed, turning back to Kyoya, who was watching me with a disinterested gaze, as if seeing families tearing themselves apart over marriage was a daily occurrence, “I will _not_ be your lawfully wedded wife. Not _now_. Not _ever_.”

“I _wasn’t_ kidding when I said I’d disown you,” my father stated, his steely cold attitude returning just as quick as it had dissipated.

“And I _wasn’t_ doubting your words,” I tossed towards the man I once considered my father. “Alexander, you have _one_ child, and that is your company. Don’t come crawling to me when _that_ deserts you too.” With that, I left the three men bent on the destruction of my freedom on the back porch and stalked up to my room in order to figure just _what the hell_ I was going to do.


	3. Chapter 3

“I still cannot believe that actually happened.”

“Me and you both man. I mean, I knew Alexander was an actual dickhead, but this? This is a whole other level of assholery.” I sat on the floor of Tyler’s room, legs pulled up to my chest. After fleeing from my hell house, I decided that my best bet was lying low with Tyler for a little bit.

I may fucking hate Kyoya but he was right about the fact that I really only had Tyler, so here I was. I had been given four or five hours to think over everything that had happened, and I was still positively fuming – and quite a bit in shock – but I needed to plan my next move. I was gonna need a job soon… there was no way I could expect Tyler’s family to carry all of my expenses, and not so suddenly either. Especially not since…

“Enough about me… how are you guys holding up? How’s your mom?” I asked quietly, feeling like such an ass. How could I dare to waltz in here complaining about my fucking pathetic rich people problems while he was dealing with so much worse?

“She… I think she still hasn’t accepted that he’s gone, you know? Sometimes I can hear her having conversations with his voicemail late at night, telling him to call her when he gets home and that she misses him. Other than that though she barely talks anymore… barely eats too. I don’t think she’s left her bed except to go to the bathroom this whole week. She won’t respond to any of us, and if I didn’t know how to cook I don’t doubt that we would’ve starved. I don’t know if she’ll get better and that scares the hell out of me.” I nodded sadly.

“And the kids?” I asked, referring to his younger siblings – the year old twins and his six and thirteen year old sisters.

“Jack and Mary are too young to understand a whole lot of anything, but Lily keeps asking when Daddy is coming home and it’s heartbreaking to have to tell her that he’s not, over and over again. Claire is doing better than Momma, but not by much.”

“And you?”

“Me? I’m…” I glared, just daring him to say ‘fine,’ but he decided against it. “I’m holding up. I have to, I’m the man of the house now.” I rolled my eyes. Tyler, more than anyone I had ever known, was duty born.

“You’re allowed to be upset. You’re allowed to throw a fit and cry and scream and curse the world. You’re allowed to not have it held together all the time. You know that right?” He snorted quietly.

“Yeah I know that, but really more than anything, more than any sadness I feel, I’m worried about my family. They’re falling apart right now; I have to be the glue.” I nodded quietly, not quite sure what to say.

I doubted there was anything I _could_ say at this point. I had been there, standing behind him as he opened the door to the two military officers holding the American flag. I had watched as he handed it to his mother, who had been cooking dinner at the time, who sunk down to the floor, staring blankly at the stitching until Tyler carried her to bed at midnight. It was something I would never forget.

“What are you going to do? About money I mean.”

“I’m not sure yet… we get some life insurance and there’s a death gratuity for his service, but eventually we’re probably going to have to downsize, especially since Momma can’t work right now.” He looked away, his eyes glazed over. This is not something he should have to be worrying about right now. He’s eighteen, just a kid.

“I probably will have to start working full time right after I graduate as well.” My head snapped up.

“What about college?” I asked frantically. He couldn’t honestly be considering turning down his full ride to Stanford for track. He had worked too damn hard to let it slip away.

He shook his head.

“There are more important things right now. Like making sure the kids get food and Momma gets her meds. I’m not allowed to work as an athlete with a scholarship, and I can’t afford not to.” I closed my eyes and rubbed my face, wishing that this were easier. But I knew that I couldn’t stay here with a clear conscious while I tried to get through school myself. It wasn’t fair to Tyler or his family, not when I could be doing more for them than taking up space and eating their food.

My decision was made.

* * *

I walked up the driveway slowly, watching for signs of life through the darkened windows. I always thought the place looked more intimidating at night. Maybe it had to do with the fact that nobody ever bothered to turn on any lights. 

I hopped the fence and crept into the backyard, squinting in the darkness. I stumbled around blindly for a bit before I found the wall of our house and was able to slink against it until my foot hit a lip. The soft metal _clang_ told me it was a window well, and more importantly, my _special_ window well. I pried the metal cap off the top and dropped into the hole.

As a kid with a bad attitude and a rebellious streak, sneaking out was a given. Granted, all I ever did was hightail it over to Tyler’s for a movie night, but I still always felt like a badass motherfucker for doing it. It meant I was free. It also meant that my window was almost always unlocked.

Opening the window triggered the alarm system, and I was praying the god that Alexander hadn’t changed the security code. I quietly punched in the numbers – my mother’s birthday – and watched as the screen turned from red to green.

Looks like he hadn’t. What a fucking idiot.

I slipped inside and began working my way up to my room from the basement. It felt surreal to be creeping around my own house like an intruder, but I wasn’t about to be caught. I wasn’t sure where I stood with my father, and I honestly was not about to find out.

After a solid ten minutes of feeling like Tom Cruise in _Mission: Impossible,_ I finally had the bright idea to check if anyone was actually home. I peeked into the garage to see if his car was there. It wasn’t. So I was alone, I guess. No difference to me, just makes my job easier. Regardless, I couldn’t help but wonder where he had taken off to. I doubted he was looking for me, and if he was, he sure as hell wouldn’t find me.

Maybe he thinks I’m kidding. That I would never possibly _actually_ leave, and that I’ll decide that _maybe_ the business deal isn’t so bad after all. That I’ll come crawling back to him and agree to marry myself off to that dickwad to retain whatever semblance of a family I have left.

Whatever. Joke’s on him I guess.

I finally made it to my room, where I shut and locked the door and flicked on the light.

What had been so familiar to me this morning now felt so alien and distant.

Am I really leaving?

I looked around my lavish room with a resonating sigh stuck deep in my chest. Regardless of whether or not my family and I have had issues, this was still my home, where I grew up for half of my life. It would be sad to say goodbye.

I flitted around my room as quietly as possible, packing. Although I had gathered some of my things earlier, it wasn’t nearly enough for a long-term trip away from home - or a permanent one for that matter. Not that I knew where I was going. It just had to be _away_.

As I raked my room for the last of my belongings or treasured items, I looked over to a stack of colorful pamphlets and flyers sticking out from under the heaping pile of _stuff_ on my desk. In that moment, if light bulbs really did alight over people’s heads when they got a good idea, I would have a fucking neon sign lit up like a Christmas tree pointing at my brain decreeing:

“This bitch got an idea. And it’s lit.”

I had a flashback to two years ago, before starting high school, when Alexander and I got into a momentous argument (*cough* _per usual_ ) over the future of my education. He positively _insisted_ that I attend a prestigious private school intended for the education of the privileged and wealthy.

This was code for a school full of little dramatic and hormonal Alexander clones, and that was something I _really_ didn’t need in my life, so, of course, I fought for the ability to be schooled with regular, normal, run-of-the-mill-vapes-in-the-parking-lot children. I had already spent the entirety of elementary school in rich kid hell I was NOT about to voluntarily spend another four years there as well.

I ended up winning for what seemed to be the first time _ever_ with a rather below-the-belt guilt trip and a _lot_ of complaining, but you gotta do what you gotta do. I assume he let me have what I wanted so I’d stop bitching.

Either way, I ended up getting my wish of attending “commoner” school and was left with a pile of pamphlets for my rejected “elite institutions.” I _refused_ to have a maid clean my room for me because I’m a stubborn ass, but alas was too lazy to clean some less used parts of it myself, so here, left on my desk for nearly two years, were the pamphlets that would dictate my salvation.

I leafed through the inane number of schools offered, most in America, some in Europe, with a few here and there in Asia and South America.

As far as language limitations went, I knew Spanish and (some) French from my mandatory second language classes during my middle school years, and my Japanese was only a _little_ rusty. I hadn’t had to use it since attending that private elementary school, but I’m sure it won’t be that hard to get back into if I needed it. I had access to a lot more schools than if I had just known English, but it also made my decision that much harder. God fucking dammit. 

I ended up narrowing down to three schools, one in France, one in Spain, and the other one in Japan. I ended up picking a school based on the facts that:

  * I got real about my French skills- they suck more than a gay pornstar (or any pornstar, I guess). I really only know how to cuss, threaten vaguely, and ask for the bathroom, which may be enough for pissing off French business partners, but not for fucking high school.


  * The school in Spain doesn’t offer scholarships and I am _not_ about to pay for two years of that shit by myself. No thanks I would like to live _above_ the poverty line thank you very much.


  * The last school is pink. Any school with enough balls to paint their entire fucking building pink is good enough for Kaeden Hale. Whoever picked that color out is _metal as fuck_.



My final decision was narrowed down to “Ouran Academy.” The best part (other than the fact that uniforms were merely a “suggestion”) was that it offered _full-ride_ merit scholarships, a.k.a. now that I’m essentially a broke ass bitch I can still get in and not have to pay a single cent of it.

I’d collected enough money through “allowances” (bribes for not sabotaging the house while business partners were present) to get me through the plane ride over and at least a couple months of rent and food, if not more if I’m lucky, and I’d even set aside a little to send back to Tyler each month, but I’m sure finding a job wouldn’t be _too_ difficult.

I mean who _wouldn’t_ want to hire and all-American 5’10” blonde with a bright smile and only sometimes a bad attitude (and I mean my sailor’s mouth isn’t _too_ bad). Okay, so _maybe_ I’m getting ahead of myself but seriously, there’s got to be _someone_ out there willing to hire me.

Now that I was packed, I realized I’d have to get all of this shit out of the house by myself, and I also realized I may not have thought this all the way through. Now I _could_ take multiple trips, but nobody has the time, energy, or patience for that bullshit. But luckily I’m the queen of spontaneity, which is how my luggage ended up taking a sledding ride down the roof and onto the pavement below. It’s only the second floor and they’re all filled with clothing, I reasoned. It’ll be _fine_.

I called a cab and decided that I did not want to test God on this fine day, so, unlike my luggage, I took the stairs. As I made my way to the front door (no point in sneaking around if it’s just me), I turned down the hall to find my father’s office door slightly ajar. Which is odd, because he usually keeps that shit locked up tighter than the Virgin Mary’s chastity belt. I creep down the hall to inspect it and find it deserted, but not without a few valuables lying around. And by valuables I mean his wallet. Dumbass.

Now, I’m not a supporter of stealing, but I’m not going to turn down free money, and not when I need it as bad as I do. So I take all his cash, two of his less used credit cards, and the debit card to my savings account, which hasn’t been in my possession since the day I tried to buy two hundred puppies with it. Lmao slay @eighth grade me.

As I walk through the house one last time, can’t help but feel a little upset that I was leaving my childhood home behind. I appraised the photos on the living mantel and ultimately pocket one for myself. I snapped out of my reverie at the two short honks signaling that the cab had arrived.

I was off to a new adventure.

* * *

I checked my phone quietly as I readjusted my ass in the uncomfortable subway seating. Thank god my interview with the chairman of Ouran had gone well the day before, at least now all I had to worry about was housing. 

Well, it had gone as well as it could have with a portfolio based on what little information I had on such short notice.

I remember watching him anxiously as he looked over my portfolio, wishing I’d had to foresight to send it through earlier because if I got rejected now, I was S.O.L. – shit outta luck.

There was my criminal record, which was relatively clean except for the one time I got caught holding my neighbors’ pet spider hostage in the hope that they would stop having sex on the balcony that faced my room – it didn’t work and, despite my protests about public indecency, I was prosecuted and spent a whole day and a half in the county jail.

My recommendation letters were included as well. I didn’t really have very many options mentor-wise considering the fact that I had to leave the country in all of like four hours, so I had to get the taxi driver, the airport janitor, and one of the flight attendants to write them for me. They all testified that though they only had known me for a short period of time, they definitely had the impression that I had what it takes to succeed at Ouran.

Luckily for me, the transcript I had been able to acquire spoke for itself. The chairman (who insisted for some ungodly reason that I call him “Uncle”), gave me my schedule, explaining that due to my “special circumstances” (that being that I was a second year student with native English and fucked-up Japanese) I had one third year class (English) and one first year class (Japanese) with the rest of my classes taken in second year. It was weird but it was happening.

So with that, I was ushered through the doors of excellence (read: privilege) into a whole new lifestyle that would begin come Monday.

It was Saturday. And I was still living in a hotel room the size of the airplane lavatory.

So with that pleasant thought, my mission for today was to find somewhere to spend the remainder of my high school career. If I’m lucky, maybe it’ll be the size of a _first-class_ airplane lavatory.

I had seen two apartments already, but they were way outside my budget and way outside of town. I’d have to hitchhike my way to school, and while that sounds like a great time, I’m sure it would lose it’s novelty by the third axe murderer encounter.

It was getting late though, and I was getting sick of public transportation and public accommodation. My virtual realtor (a.k.a. Craigslist Japan) assured me that this next stop would be a winner. I mean Craigslist also told me that the last two were winners as well and is also responsible for multiple homicides, but who am I to question it.

As I hopped off at my stop and make the short hike down to the apartment complex, I knew immediately that this place actually had a shot. For one, I knew it was within walking distance of my new school. For two, it looked clean, convenient when the last place I saw was Grade-A crack house material. For three, there was a person with vibrant red hair dancing and singing off-key on the upper balcony to loud pop music while sweeping, which sold it for me.

After snooping around the empty apartment, I realized that it was roughly the same size as my room at home. I don’t know if that made the apartment or me pathetic, but either way I quickly realized that regardless of my “commoner” rebellious streaks, I would have to learn how to live with less. Ramen was no longer a cheap commodity; it would be a cheap necessity.

_Welcome to the real world Kaeden._

I figured that this was the best place I would find (and it was actually pretty affordable too) and made an offer. At best, I’d move in tomorrow. At worst, I’d get to sleep in the hotel room/lavatory for the next day or two.

Here’s to hoping for the best.

* * *

Luckily, the landlady was as eager for me to move in as I was, and I was all settled in by Sunday morning (not that moving in was difficult at all considering my belongings consisted of like, four suitcases). 

Which lead me to my next problem: my complete and total lack of furnishings. However, a quick trip to the thrift store quickly solved that, and while my apartment looked like an ungodly combination of my grandma’s house and a drunken bachelor pad, I had shit to put my shit in and that was all that mattered to me.

Plus some sick Scooby-Doo bed sheets. Score.

I quickly folded (balled) up my last bits of clothing and shoved them into the worn dresser drawers and decided that it was perhaps in my best interest to meet my neighbors.

So I waltzed outside into the sunlight and tried to make a good impression.

That immediately went out the window when I face planted literally a foot and a half in front of my door. Directly in front of my next-door neighbor. Great.

“Oh geez, are you okay.” I heard a feminine voice exclaim. Suddenly I was being helped up by a short brunette girl in a t-shirt and jeans, one arm full of groceries and the other full of clumsy American.

“Oh yeah I’m good!” I laughed. I got up and dusted myself off, and extended my hand.

“Not the best circumstances to meet under, but hi! I’m Kaeden Hale.” She giggled and shook my hand.

“Let me guess; you’re the new next door neighbor Mrs. Tanaka was talking about.” My eyes lit up at the mention of someone I knew (albeit the landlady).

“Yep! That’s me! I just moved here from America.”

“I can tell. _Definitely_ American,” She giggled. I made an over exaggerated pouty face. “If you make that face, it’s going to get stuck like that. I’m Haruhi Fujioka by the way.”

“Well it’s nice to meet you Haruhi.”

“Nice to meet you as well. Now, I would really love to stay and chat but dinner is running late tonight and I’ve really got to get it started.” She turned to unlock her apartment.

“No problem at all! I think I’m going to try to get to know the rest of my neighbors, this time with a little more grace. Wish me luck!” She laughed and rolled her eyes playfully.

“I do – you’ll need it!”


	4. Chapter 4

“ ** _FUCK_**!” I screamed as I violently launched myself from my bed, oblivious to anything else around me as I scrambled into the bathroom in a hasty attempt to _not_ be late on my first day.

_It_ would _be just like you to oversleep your first day to a new school_. _A new_ prestigious high-expectation school _for the rich and_ not _socially awkward_. *clears throat and glares*

You know what, shut the hell up. I don’t need your berating, and besides, I’m not late _yet_ , I just can’t take a hundred billion years on getting ready.

_You are currently having an internal argument in the mirror with your reflection instead of getting ready. There’s_ no way _you won’t be late_.

“Shit!” I ended my argument with my conscious early before it turned into a fistfight (can an internal argument turn into a physical brawl?) and put my morning routine on hyper drive before shooting out of the bathroom (with my toothbrush _still_ in my mouth mind you) and wrestled on a nice, but casual outfit.

I couldn’t afford a regular school uniform (considering I had to save my cash for actual necessities), so I had to make do with what I had. I figured that since the uniform was optional, I probably wouldn’t be the only one in normal clothes, and since what I was wearing was casual, but not enough to be trashy, I shouldn’t stand out too much. Trashy comes out on day two. That’s when the party _really_ starts.

I hastily threw my toothbrush _somewhere_ back in the bathroom before quickly shutting the door.

I didn’t even _want_ to know that kind of damage I just did to the bathroom with that entire escapade.

With that, I grabbed my book bag before glancing at the clock.

_Damn_ , that was record time.

I booked it out the door in hopes of reaching school before classes start so I wasn’t wondering around the school like a broke drunkard looking for a Gucci in rural Kansas.

But alas, God did not want to make things easy for me.

As I sprinted down the walkway towards the stairs, someone came waltzing out of their apartment, and I _just so happened_ to **_ram_** into that person so hard we both tumbled down the flight of stairs together.

“Ugghhhhhh…” I heard someone groan. I looked down to see I was sitting on top of a tiny brunette in a purple suit. She really was tiny, probably no taller than 5’1.”

It was then that I registered:

You’re nine inches taller than she is… and you are currently sitting on her chest…

_Get the hell off of her_!

“OhmygoshIamsosorryIdidn’tmeanitIshouldhavelookedwhereIwasgoingIapologizeI…” my words ran together as I helped her up. She dusted herself off and straightened her suit.

“It’s alright, I’m fine… Kaeden?!”

“Oh hey Haruhi! It’s great to see you again! I’m sorry our second meeting started with me crushing the air from your lungs…”

“Yeah I’m sorry about that too. Between today and yesterday you’re building quite a clumsy reputation for yourself…” she muttered before shaking her head and smiling.

“Yeah that’s probably fair,” I giggled before noticing her #OOTD, “Wait is _that_ your school uniform?” I asked, gesturing to her rather _unique_ get up.

“Yeah, weird huh?”

“No kidding. Does everyone have to wear that uniform?”

“Actually this is just the guy’s uniform. Trust me, the girl’s uniform is a thousand times worse. I’m glad I don’t have to wear _that_ monstrosity.” I nodded and mentally readjusted my pronouns. _He_.

“Geez, well where do you attend anyways?” I asked, feeling bad for him.

“Ouran Academy.” He answered.

I gasped comically before bursting out in laughter.

“I _think_ we go to the same school. Big and pink? Probably cost more than the GDP of a small South American country?”

“That’s the one!” he smiled at me. “I’m so glad I won’t be the only commoner there any more!”

“Neighbors _and_ school buddies. Now you’re really stuck with me,” I raised my eyebrows comically, “But seriously, I’m actually kind of nervous. Is it weird there?” He laughed and turned to me.

“It’s plenty weird, but I think you’ll learn to like it there. I mean, I did!” he gave me a kind smile.

We walked and chattered about little things like schoolwork, the weather, that awful neighbor in 1E who seems adamant about playing Super Smash Bros at three in the god damn morning

and I literally just stopped walking.

Right there.

In the middle of the pathway.

Where people were trying to get to their classes.

I hadn’t gotten a chance to see it during my interview with the chairman, seeing as he met me a coffee shop closer to my hotel.

But dude.

**_Dude_**.

It was _enormous_. Not like, elephant enormous. We’re talking as enormous as Alexander’s ego.

No… we’re talking _more_ enormous than his ego.

We’re talking _America’s debt_ enormous.

Like, this is a high school right? With only a couple hundred kids in it? Wtf the fuck???

Haruhi’s voiced snapped me out of the little moment I just had.

“Are you coming or not? Don’t want to be late on your first day!” As I ran to catch up with her I noticed a few odds things:

  * No one was out of uniform. Not one person. Who the fuck _chooses_ to wear an _optional_ uniform? Who bitch?


  * Said uniforms were atrocious. If I thought that the purple suit was awful, the female uniforms were literally



         Giant

         Yellow

         Marshmallows

I have never been more grateful to be poor in my entire three days of being poor.

  * These giant yellow marshmallows kept looking over at us and whispering. Maybe because I was _not_ wearing a giant yellow marshmallow myself, but seriously, talking behind your hands is _not_ going to change the fact that I look 146% cooler than you.



But seriously those uniforms are 50 shades of awful.

“Hey Haruhi?” 

“Mmhmm?”

“Why are they staring? I mean, I know I’m not in uniform, but I don’t think I look _that_ weird.”

“You do look _that_ weird.” I made a face. “No not like that. I mean you’re American for one. That’s new. For two, you’re huge by most Japanese standards, no offense miss statue of liberty. For three, you’re not in uniform, which is more rare than you would think.” I nodded.

“That’s fair. But they’re looking at you too.” I raised an eyebrow, wondering if I was going to have to get into a fight day one. Haruhi rolled his eyes.

“Yeah that’s something else entirely. Host club business and all that. Doesn’t help I’m walking in with a girl today either…”

“Host club? What’s that?” I asked curiously. _And what does it have to do with me being a girl._

“Well…it’s this thing...” With that the bell rang signaling the beginning of classes. “Oh god! I’ve got to go, but if you swing by the host club this afternoon I’ll explain everything!” He took of running down the hallway in what I assumed to be in the direction of his class, but so many of my questions were left unanswered.

Why does me being a girl make any difference?

What the heck is a host club?

And _where the fucking hell_ is my classroom?


	5. Chapter 5

“Um… thanks for helping me out sir…” I directed my eyes away from the _very_ busy chairman whose work I’d halted to help me find just where the hell my classroom was. 

This place was like the size of Texas _my fucking god._  

“It’s no problem my dear. And I thought I said to call me Uncle!” Oh god. Don’t remind me. 

He directed me to where my later periods would be held before steering me to the door where my first class was to be taught. Or was _currently_ being taught. 

I was _hella_ late.

I looked through the window at the _very_ full class of the obviously rich, gorgeous, and privileged.

“Sir… I mean…Uncle? Maybe its best if I start tomorrow. Or like, _never_.” I nervously cracked my knuckles. He clapped me on the shoulder.

“It’s just nerves my dear, you’ll get over them soon enough! Now, let’s introduce you to the class.” He gave me a blinding smile that did absolutely nothing to reassure me.

“No! No no no no no no no _nooooooo_ …” I groaned as he dragged me into the classroom by my collar, still beaming like a maniac.

Everyone stood and bowed at the principal and I stood quite awkwardly at the front of the classroom, hoping to get over the introductions quickly.

“Class 3A, please welcome Kaeden Hale, who has come here all the way from America to join this school!”

“Please take care of me,” I bowed as I gave the appropriate response nervously. I made to book it to the back of the classroom to grab a corner seat next to the window, away from all civilization and human interaction (well I don’t know if the occupants of this school can be considered “human” exactly but…), but was quickly pulled back by my collar by “Uncle.”

That man was _quickly_ getting on my nerves.

“Why don’t you tell us a little about yourself my dear?” I audibly groaned and mentally prepared myself for this performance I was about to give.

“Hi everyone!” I put on my fakest chipper voice. “My name is Kaeden Hale, I am 16 years old, I moved here from California literally like three days ago. _Yes_ , that is where Hollywood and L.A. are. _No_ , I have never been to those specific places because I am a lazy internet addict who hates going outside so I cannot tell you what they are like. I like to longboard but going fast scares me and I’m terrible at cooking and I once set easy mac on fire in my microwave and then we had to get a new microwave that I wasn’t allowed to use. That’s pretty much all there is to know!” I gave a sarcastic smile and looked back at the bewildered teacher and my “Uncle.”

“May I sit down now?”

“Y-yes. You may.” Teacher lady stuttered out, still mildly in shock.

I guess you don’t get a whole lot of introductions that don’t sound like:

“Hi I’m (insert name here), my daddy/father is the super rich and famous head of (insert brand name company here) and I really like (“playing Barbies with real people instead of dolls”/”spending all of my money on sports cars I’m not legally allowed to drive yet.”). Please take care of me!”

Ugh. Hoes man.

_Hoes._

JK I fuckin’ _wish_ I was still that rich SLAY ME GOD.

I took my corner seat and figured that this was English class, if I didn’t know the language by now, I probably never would. I pulled out my Gameboy and booted up my Pokémon Sapphire game in an attempt to restore some normalcy to my life.

I played through most of the class period quietly, but as I was about to kick the living shit out of some nine-year-old wank waffle trainer I met on some distant route, an equally young-looking kid sitting in front of me turned around and tried to start a conversation.

Can’t he see I’m _anxious_ and _busy_?

“Hi there Kae-chan! I’m Ho-“

“Hold on.” I said absentmindedly as I utterly _destroyed_ the small trainer’s last Pokémon, along with all of his tiny hopes and dreams.

Yes. _Yes_. Give me all of your money, child. Don’t talk to strangers kid, didn’t anyone ever fucking teach you that?

Now pay the fuck up.

If only I could rob children who lose to me in real life. Maybe I could have more than ramen for dinner then, huh?

I looked up at whoever was trying to get my attention previous to my sweet virtual victory to find it was some eight-year-old holding his stuffed rabbit, who was now seemingly sniffling to the _giant_ seated next to him.

Isn’t this a _senior_ class? Like as in almost literally adults? Because Alien A looks almost literally a child, and Alien B looks almost literally a grown ass man that pays taxes and drinks bourbon.

What the _actual_ _fuck_ Ouran?

I guess I must’ve sat there with the weirdest look on my face (I’m _quite_ skilled at those) just staring at the two, because the kid went from crying to laughing in about 3.7 seconds.

“Haahaha! You’re funny Kae-chan!”

“ _Thanks.._.” I said skeptically.

“I’m Haninozuka Mitsukuni, but you can call me Honey! And this is Morinozuka Takashi, but you can call him Mori!” He said gesturing to Mister ‘Roids.

“Ah.” He said in a deep resonating voice.

That was it.

Just “Ah.”

Nothing more.

I can fuck with that.

I nodded and was all set to forget about the two weirdoes and return to my game when I was interrupted, _again_.

“You’re only 16, right Kae-chan?”

“Yeppidy-do-da. And you can call me Kaeden, I’d actually prefer it.”

He thoughtfully looked at me for a second before letting a bright smile return to his child features.

“Alright Kaeden! If you’re 16 why are you in class 3A?”

“Dude,” I looked him up and down, “you’re like _8,_ shouldn’t _I_ be asking _you_ the same question?”

At this point monk-man chose to grace our ears with his words.

“Mitsukuni is 17.”

My jaw literally unhinged itself and dropped to my toes.

“No. No. Nope. Nah. Nuh uh. _No_. You’re fucking me.”

“Nope! I’m actually older than Takashi!” I looked up to monk man and back to midget boy, who shot me a beaming smile as he hugged his stuffed rabbit.

The _17-year-old_

sat there

and _cuddled_ his fucking _stuffed rabbit_

in the middle of _English class_.

“ _Dang_.”

“You never answered my question.”

“I’m in this class because I’m from America; my English is pretty flawless unless I purposefully decided to fuck it up for stylistic choices, E.E. Cummings style. So they decided to excel me I guess.”

“Oh. That’s so cool! Are you a commoner?”

“Yeah…”

Whoop-dee-fucking-do having a _great_ time being poor!

“So you’re just like Haru-chan!” I perked up at the mention of my first friend, (and first normal person I’ve met) at Ouran.

“Are you talking about Haruhi Fujioka?” I asked. Do these nutcases really know Haruhi?

“Yep! We’re all in the Host Club together!” I remembered his parting words from earlier today and was about to ask about said “Host Club” when the bell rang and cut me off.

“Well, see you later Kaeden!”

Within 0.3 seconds the entire classroom was empty for break time and I was left to stumble my way through the crowded hallways to my next class.

“Let’s just put all of Kaeden’s classes on _opposite_ ends of the school.” Said Satan and his accomplices, the architects.

I quietly snuck into my next classroom without an issue, as all of the females were crowded around what looked to be two boys (but I couldn’t tell as a result of all the estrogen in my way) and all the guys were too busy plotting how to get the girls on _their_ dicks instead of Mister Populars’.

Needless to say, all of the students in the class were too busy thinking with their genitalia to pay notice to a new addition to their madhouse.

As _Uncle_ was not here to force an introduction out of me, I was hoping to quietly sit through my next few classes (which I believe were Math and European History) without a huge hassle.

But it was not to be, and I blame it on my choice to wear literally _anything_ that wasn’t a giant yellow marshmallow.

I wonder how many people don’t wear the uniforms here…

Oh yeah.

None.

So understandably, I stood out like an 8-year-old in a senior class.

*cough cough*

Despite this fact, my plan of laying low was working rather well until some _blonde idiot_ decided he just couldn’t keep his fucking nose out of my fucking business.

“Excuse me teacher, but I believe that we have a new student~!” He said in a singsong voice.

If looks could kill, that kid and everything in a three-mile radius would be nothing but a smoking wasteland of desolation having been blown to smithereens by my mere aura at that moment.

It was not a secret.

I was _pissed_.

I was so close to slipping through undetected. _So close_!

“Oh I believe you are correct. I _was_ informed we’d have a new student. Please join us at the front… Miss Hale, is it?”

I groaned and sluggishly made my way to the front of the classroom and glared daggers at the asshole that ratted me out, who, for some unforeseeable reason, had decided to walk up to the front _with me_.

Is he _asking_ to die? Because I _can_ arrange it.

“Why don’t you tell us about yourself _mon cher~_?” The dildo sheep asked me whilst holding out a rose. I was so enveloped in my murderous thoughts I didn’t even realize his attempts to be charming, or his question for that matter.

It was when he took my hand and kissed it that I snapped out of my death and gore ridden fantasy.

“Are you merely shy _ma beauté_? Please, do not be worried; I would be honored to be graced with your voice, shyness aside, as I am sure it is as gorgeous as yourself.”

“ _Personne ne conçoit un meurtre à voix haute, espèce de connard._ ” I answered icily (which was impressive since I knew almost literally _just_ enough of the language to design that sentence), wondering if he could actually speak French or was just using it for effect. I guess we’ll find out won’t we.

With that, he retreated to a distant corner of the classroom, where I _think_ he started growing mushrooms.

_Alrighty then._ At least partial fluency in French: check. Glad I learned how to threaten people if nothing else.

I think the teacher was 300% done with everyone’s bullshit at that point, skipped my introduction entirely, and proceeded to move me to _the very front_ of the fucking classroom.

All the easier to show you how much attention I’m _not_ fucking paying to you my dear.

“Tamaki, stop being childish and come sit down.” I heard a voice call from behind me.

I knew that voice.

That

_Fucking_

Voice.

No no no no no no nonononononoonononononononononoono

**_NOOOOOOOOOOO_**.

I slowly turned around only to come face to face with the _last_ person I wanted to see.

“Yes, hello. I see you’ve noticed my presence here Miss Hale.”

I closed my eyes in disbelief and slammed my head down on the table in front of me, hoping to destroy enough brain cells to constitute memory loss.

“Blow me dickwad.” I said in English, hoping that at least the teacher couldn’t understand my insult.

“A bit feisty today, are we?” Kyoya Ootori continued in my native language, smirking at me.

I prayed to all that was holy that he would be dead when I turned around again.

Alas, someone up there just _wanted_ my life to be a living hell, because when I turned around again, there was his stupid face, _still alive_. And _still smirking_.

Dammit. I think I need to work on my head imploding skills.

“What did you say to Tamaki by the way? You seem to have made him very upset.”

“I told him that ‘no one designs a murder out loud,’ and I think you’d do well to remember that as well.”

I think I may be a sadist because I was seriously getting off on all the mortifying and grisly ways I’d deform that face of his.

Sweet, _sweet_ bloodshed, oh how I love you.

His ass cactus of a friend moved his ass from the corner of the room and sat down next to him, and it was then I realized that I would have to sit in front of the _both of them_ for two hours a day for the e _ntire fucking_ y _ear._

At that point, I honestly believe that the _only_ thing keeping me sane was imagining slicing everyone’s head off with a paper shredder.

Oh joy, school.

* * *

 

After a rather _brutal_ few hours trying to _not_ pay attention to my surroundings as much as possible (which lead to me throwing myself headlong into my math work – which was still somehow less painful than dealing with the reality of what sat behind me), the bell rang and I made to get out of that living hell

**_A_ **

**_S_ **

**_A_ **

**_P_ **

But fucking _no._

No, my life was _never_ easy.

The minute I bolted from my seat and was nearly out the door, I was surprised to find a certain blonde wanker had materialized in front of me, holding out yet _another_ rose.

_What the fuck_? Does the dude stick them down his pants? Or is he a botanist wizard or some shit? Where the hell does he get these things?

“Dude. _Move_. I have places to go and bitches to fuck.”

“Such a pretty lady shouldn’t let such dirty words fall from such gorgeous lips.” He said as he leaned in.

I noticed a few things:

  * The dude smelled like peaches.



         Does he fucking wear peach cologne?

         Do they even _have_ peach cologne?

  * He had purple eyes.



_Who the fuck_ has purple eyes?

         Not fucking regular people, that’s who.

  * The fact that 1 and 2 are on this list meant the fucker was in my personal bubble.



         Not.

         Okay.

“You better back the fuck up before you get smacked the fuck up.” I was _not in the mood_.

“Mon ami I’m afraid I can’t detach myself from such beauty...” he leaned in even closer.

“Seriously leave me alone.”

“And deny myself the presence of such a lovely personality?” I snorted. “Lovely” my ass.

If he doesn’t want to respect my personal space, then fine. I’ll _make_ him respect it.

I grimaced, which he mistook for a smile, leaned into him and he triumphantly beamed, thinking I had given in to his “charms.”

Egotistical bastard.

“Yes princess, let the King take care of you.” He breathed dramatically.

I rolled my eyes. _Men_.

“Could you really take care of me I wonder?” I asked sweetly, leaning into him even further, acting like I was going to kiss his cheek.

He didn’t even have time to react before I kneed him right in the moneymaker. _Hard_.

“I gotta get to class Mister Scrotum-Curtain, now _leave me alone_. Got it?” I threatened to his withered form on the floor.

What a little bitch.

I spent lunch in a bathroom stall on my phone (hiding from people who would no doubt bother me with stupid questions about either myself or America) and thanked whatever deity there was that my next class was actually my elective because I really, _really_ , didn’t think that I’d survive another fucking “regular” class period without smacking a bitch.

At least I’d get to release some pent up rage on some poor souls, in a completely legal and not-prosecutable way. Fuck yeah gym class.

I walked into the female locker room to change into my athletic clothes, only to find it utterly _deserted_.

“Hellooooooo? Anybody home?” I called out loudly.

No response.

Needless to say I took _immediate_ advantage of the opportunity of having a locker room all to myself.

My music was out and blasting within seconds of my discovery and I was dancing around in only my sports bra and spandex like I was the real fucking slim shady.

Why?

Because I’m a fucking rock star from Mars that’s why.

I realized I had been fucking around for _far_ too long and rushed to get fully clothed before entering what had to be the nicest gymnasium (if one could call it that) I’d ever fucking seen.

Literally it was an athlete’s _heaven_.

My high school didn’t even have a gym. We went fucking old-school and played capture the flag in the mud.

If it rained (which it seldom did in southern California), you better have brought a coat and a change of clothes, or else you were _shit outta luck bucko._

After I’d finished my gaping, I found myself wondering _where the hell_ the rest of the class was, only to have my question answered by following some lonely straggler outside.

And then my jaw dropped.

_Again_.

Literally _on top_ of all of the athlete’s toys indoors were perfectly manicured fields for every sport a rich and overly privileged high schooler could want.

I guess some douche decided:

“Hey, instead of feeding the hungry malnourished children in third-world countries, let’s build a fucking playground for kids who probably won’t use it and/or appreciate it.”

I fucking hate rich people. (Says the former rich person).

I jogged in late to the group gathered around a burly teacher in the middle of the baseball field and tried to blend in without success.

“Newbie! Front and center!”

I looked around as if I didn’t hear anything.

What was that? Are you talking to _little old me_? Nah.

I just wanted to start the class, nix the introductions. It’s not that fucking hard, I’m not asking for _that_ much! I mean, class for these guys didn’t start too long ago (I’d give it a week or two) since their school years starts in April and it is currently like April 20 (4/20 blaze iittt). Like cut a bitch a break I’m sure I’m not the _only_ transfer.

But alas, before long, the circle had shifted so _I_ was in the center next to Mister Man the P.E. tyrant.

“Oh. You’re a girl.” He blinked stupidly.

Geez, I know most P.E. teachers aren’t the brightest, but you would think a school with enough money to _rule a small country_ would be able to afford instructors that had IQs that exceeded the _single digits_.

“Yes. I am.” I responded rather sarcastically, because between the long hair, makeup, or you know, _mounds of fat attached to my chest_ , one should _probably_ be able to identify my sex and not be surprised.

“No no. I mean, we don’t usually, if _ever_ , get girls in this class.”

“Oh. Wait, why?”

“Well girls do take P.E. it’s just usually separately.”

“Once again: Why?” I asked bewildered. What is this, the 50’s?

“They’re _girls_. Girls cheer for sports, not play them,” some douche stated. I looked for him in the crowd and decided that I was going to kill him if he showed his face.

“Oh really?” I snorted, trying to ignore the misogynistic bullshit occurring around me, “What units do we have?”

“…well, football, boxing, wrestling, baseball, soccer, basketball. The usual, but you don’t have to participate at all. In fact I think I’d be best if you transfer out, the guys here can be a bit…rough, and I would hate for you to get hurt.”

I was silently fuming at his comment. Like _really bitch_ I’m taller and more built than half the guys in this class. You think I couldn’t take any of these fuckers in a second? The asshole that made the earlier rude comment stepped out, and boy did he look like a tool.

His square frames sat on his pointy nose like he owned the fucking place, and his long greasy hair hung around his face like a bad Thor imitation. In his left hand he held a…what is that? Is that a notepad?

Who the hell brings a notepad to P.E.?

Definitely a tool.  

“Yeah _princess_. Wouldn’t want you to _break a nail_ now would we?” He mocked.

That’s it the boxing unit starts early.

“What’s your name?” I asked as I struggled to keep my voice level.

“Well, _sweetheart_ , I am Kotmatsuzawa Akira, Editor-in-Chief of Ouran’s Newspaper Club. And you are…?” He asked condescendingly.

I was fed up with his egotistical sexist bullshit.

“Well, _sweetheart_ , _I_ am your new headline.” And with that I punched him square in the nose. 


	6. Chapter 6

I had spent the remainder of the period hiding out on the roof before I was ratted out by the janitor who’d seen me scale the fire escape after hauling ass out of P.E. class.

It was nice up there while it lasted. It beat the bathroom by a mile. #newlunchspot

However, I was now getting my ass chewed by a particularly red-faced Chairman Suoh. Or “Uncle” I suppose, but in this moment “Chairman Suoh” seemed much more fitting.

Fucking janitors always fucking me over and getting me in trouble for punching punk bitches.

“Miss Hale! When I said I wanted a check-up, I didn’t mean in the middle of your first day! And certainly not for something like this. Do you understand why I am upset?”

“Not entirely.”

“You physically assaulted another student.”

“He was being a sexist and misogynistic pig. He deserved me punching his lights out.”

“…Nonetheless, you cannot "punch the lights out" of students in Physical Education class just because they have angered you.”

“So are you saying that I _can_ punch the lights out of students in _other_ classes because they anger me?”

“No! You cannot punch _any_ students’ lights out in _any_ class.”

“But _why_. He told me I should transfer out so I wouldn’t break a _precious nail!_ He deserved it!”

“…Look… we are essentially running a business here. We will not get a very good reputation if we have students assaulting other students. I _should_ suspend you,” I flinched. Way to fuck it up Hale. First day. 10 out of 10. Nice going. “But…because you are the daughter of a family friend-”

“I- oh geez… _Suoh_ , how could I have forgotten? You always brought me French chocolate when you came to visit.”

“So you do remember me.” He chuckled. He was the only associate of my father’s that I wouldn’t fuck with. And now he was here, chewing my ass.

“Nostalgia aside, I will give you a second chance and let you off with a warning… and week of detention to be served during your lunch hour. But if I hear about you repeating this offence again, I regret to inform you that you will have to be severely punished.”

I felt the need to complain, but I realized that he was being extra lenient with me and I should be grateful, so I simply forced myself to nod and thank him quietly.

I got up and crossed the expansive room to the large doors blocking me from my route to my last class, which I was _once again_ late for.

Christ I just wanted to sleep.

* * *

As I strolled in late to class, I _really_ wasn’t in the mood to do any introductions at that point, so I ignored the teacher when he tried to catch my attention and wordless walked to an empty seat in the back. The teacher, who I am very sure could’ve cared less at that point, wanted class to be over as much as the rest of us and returned to his lesson plan without a second glance to me.

I put my head down and the desk and tried to get some much needed shut-eye.

Key word: _tried_.

Key phrase: _tried and failed_.

This was resultant of two syphilis-zoos sitting in front of me who decided that it would be a good idea to try and talk to me.

“Hey.”

“…” I neglected to _give a fuck_ about whoever was talking to me and ignored them. I’ve dealt with too much shit today.

“Kaoru why isn’t she saying anything?”

“I don’t know, maybe she’s dead.”

“She’s not dead, just rude.”

“Yes. Much rude. Very offense,” I said groggily as I nodding in agreement to the second voice’s statement, my head still on the table. Hopefully that would get them off my back because I really _really_ just wanted to sleep.

“Maybe she just needs some… convincing…” I heard the first voice trail off.

I glanced up to see what they were up to and found myself face to face with clones. Literally:

Face

to

face

Well… face to face for a _moment_ …before I yelped and fell backwards in my chair and crashed to the floor.

I rubbed the back of my head where it hit the ground and blushed as I found the whole class watching me. I figured that it was nearing the end of class because order only declined from that point onward, everyone leaving me on my own to get my life together while they began packing up and talking to their friends.

“Dammit, I knew I was going to die because of my clumsiness! I fucking _knew_ it!” I muttered.

“Um… are you okay?” Clone One asked carefully.

“What kind of idiot falls off their chair?” Clone Two said.

As I got up to hit Clone Two (obviously forgetting my lecture from “Uncle” mere minutes ago about no fighting) I heard another, thankfully familiar, voice call my name.

“Kaeden? Is that you falling over and breaking things again?”

“Haruhi?!” I asked excitedly.

I saw him poke his head around the freaks of nature and in that moment I was so beyond happy you don’t even know.

“Haruhi! Dude! You’re here! In this class! With me! I’m not alone!” I pounced on him and gave him a huge bear hug. “Thank god there is at least one sane person in this madhouse!”

“Woah, Haruhi, do you know this clutz?” Clone Two asked.

“Yeah. We’re neighbors. She’s the other commoner that attends Ouran.”

“Oh so you’re a commoner?” asked Clone One.

“Yessiree,” I responded, excitedly flashing a huge grin. I turned to Haruhi in hopes of decoding some of the day’s craziness.

“You’ll never believe the day I’ve had...”

Then the bell rang.

Fuck that bell in the ass.

Fuck it sideways.

Inside out.

Upside down.

In the bathroom.

With an alligator coated in spikes because that bell is a cocksucking whore.

You hear that bell?! You inbred piece of semen-melon!

I was so caught up with mentally insulting the bell I didn’t even hear Haruhi.

“I’m sorry Haruhi, what’d you say?”

He sighed at my inattentiveness but repeated his words nonetheless. “I _said_ , if you want, you can come to the Host Club today. We could talk there and I’ll explain the whole situation from this morning and then we could walk home together.”

I contemplated his offer and realized the only better thing to do was go home and clean up the mess I made this morning in my frantic scramble to get ready for school.

Decisions decisions: clean… go hang with cool sane person… clean… go hang with cool sane person…

I decided to go hang with cool sane person.

Shocker

“That sounds fantastic!” I noticed Clone Two glaring daggers at me as I answered Haruhi, and I stuck my tongue out at him as he left. “What’s their deal?”

“Oh just ignore them. They’re goofballs.”

“Can do Captain Haruhi! Now, what is the Host Club anyways? I met some third years who were also apparently in it as well.”

“In the words of the ‘King:’ “The Ouran Host Club is where the school’s handsomest boys with too much time on their hands entertain young ladies who also have way too much time on their hands.’” He recited sarcastically.

“Soooo…. You guys are like hookers.”

He gave me a weird look before bursting out in uncontrollable laughter. I tried to imagine the two third years (what were their names? Giant and kiddo?) in corsets, fishnets, and _way_ too much makeup. It was beautiful.

I’d pay to see that.

“No no nothing like that. We just sit around and talk to girls all day. It’s not that bad. And you must have met Mori-senpai and Honey-senpai. They’re also in the host club.”

“Those two are weird as _fuck_. And sitting around and talking to girls all day sounds like torture. ‘Oh Haruhi tell me I’m pretty.’ ‘Do I look fat in this dress Haruhi?’ ‘Oh Haruhi! My daddy is so mean! He bought me a _burgundy_ Ferrari rather than a _crimson_ one!’” I began mimicking a high-pitched female voice I would associate with some of the basic bitches I had observed that attended this school. He continued laughing as we walked through the halls.

“It’s actually not as bad as you would think. There are some shallow girls, but there are lots of genuine ones too. I’m lucky enough to get most of the latter type.” We eventually came to a stop in front of a pair of white double doors. I read the plaque with the room’s name on it.

“Music Room #3? Are you guys secretly a band or something?”

“No,” he chuckled, “I don’t know why they choose this room to be honest. I stumbled through here not to long ago looking for a place to study and… the rest is history.”

I followed him through the doors, only to be met with a blinding white light and… the fuck? Are those… _rose petals_?

“Welcome,” I heard a group of voices call.

“Oh, it’s just Haruhi and… Kae-chan?” I heard a voice say.

“My name is Kaeden thanks!” I corrected, still trying to regain vision in my eyes and peeling petals of my person.

“Well, sorry to disappoint you all,” Haruhi said sarcastically.

“No no! Daddy is always happy to see you!”

 _Oh god not him_.

I looked up to find that blonde moron from my second year classes suffocating a very unhappy looking Haruhi.

“Yo! Hands-off the homie before I give you a _reminder_ of what we learned in class today.” I threatened.

“What? Why is she here?! Haruhi did you let _her_ into our sacred home?!” Tamaki whined from behind Haruhi.

“She’s my friend, senpai.” Haruhi said matter-of-factly, removing the blond from his person.

“H-Haruhi… I forbid you to hang out with this... this… delinquent! She’ll sully you! You should’ve seen what she did to Daddy today! Mommy, you saw! Don’t let her corrupt my sweet child!” He shouted, cuddling Haruhi closer.

He got fed up of his whiney attitude pretty damn quick because in less than a minute he had hit him over the head, scolded him, and he was now sitting in his emo corner like a little bitch.

“Daddy? Mommy? Haruhi what kind of kinky shit…?” I trailed off with a confused chuckle, completely lost. Either this Host Club was really perverted or just really awkward.

“I’m afraid we don’t have time to answer your questions ma’am, as the Host Club is about to begin. I’m also afraid you don’t have an appointment…” A steely voice stated. I slowly turned around to face who’d had spoken, almost to the point of shaking.

No. _Fucking_. Way. Are you actually kidding me?

He just had to make it worse though, didn’t he?

“You?! What the hell are _you_ doing here?”

“Look what the Host Club’s little dog dragged in,” He continued as if I hadn’t spoken at all. I found myself facing a very smug looking Kyoya, and I was so ready to give him a piece of my ~~fist~~ mind when I remembered Chairman Suoh’s warning about fighting.

I took a deep breath and went to my happy place.

Happy place~ Happy place~ Dismembering Kyoya in my happy place~

“Oh hush Kyoya-senpai, she can sit with me today, that’s why I invited her after all.”

“At least _he_ likes me, unlike all of you crazies.” I muttered pointedly.

Before I could fully understand just what the actual fuck was happening in this wacked out Host Club, the door open and horde of what was obviously fangirls flooded in.

Within thirty seconds the room was swamped with girls producing so much estrogen you could choke on it.

I guess Haruhi didn’t have an appointment until a little later on, so he got to sit with me as I observed the fuckery happening around me.

After regaining my ability to _breathe_ , I found that the hosts and their “clients” were separated into small groups around tables.

First I saw the clones over the far right. They seemed to just be talking with the girls until Clone One began to fall over in his chair like I had earlier today. Then Clone Two caught him and they had some weird lovey-dovey bullshit moment.

He was a dick when I fell over earlier but now…

“Oh Hikaru, you saved me!” Clone One exclaimed from his position in the other clone’s arm.

“Kaoru, you know I will always catch you when you fall.” Clone ~~Twat~~ Two replied, his face far too close to be anything innocent.

Then all the girls squealed like orgasming pigs I swear I felt my temporal lobe explode.

I clutched my ears as they viciously _bled_ and moved my gaze to the back of the room, where I found the weirdo third years from space.

The little kid was basically stuffing as much cake in his mouth as physically possible (and then some), and his partner in crime, the Silent Giant, just sat there watching. No words. No expressions.

Simple, easy, straight to the point. Big enough to kick your ass to Jupiter and back.

I respect Silent Giant.  

I moved on from the _inhuman_ display of cake-eating skills to find bitch-boy in the middle of the room, serenading a few dim females with _literally_ the most generic answers ever.

“Tamaki-senpai, what’s your favorite color?”

“The one that reminds me of your sparkling eyes of course my dear~.”

“Oh Tamaki-senpai! What’ your favorite food?”

“I love anything so long as you feed it to me darling~.”

I suppressed the urge to groan and _failed_. He’s like a bad dating sim. How do they even tie their shoes in the morning if they are dumb enough to swoon over his bullshit nonspecific answers? At least the gremlin has a talent, albeit a terrifying and rather unhealthy one.

I heard the distant *clack* of computer keys and turned to find Mister Cocksucker wasting his life away on his laptop at the table across from us.

He could be watching gay porn, or he could be on the deep web, hiring an assassin to kill me. I guess we’ll never know.

Until I die mysteriously; then we’ll know.

“Haruhi…”

“Hm?” He responded, clearly occupied with what looked to be his textbook.

“What the fuck is this place?” He sighed, and closed his textbook, rubbing his eyes as if he were as done with this place as I was.

“I asked myself that same question when I first walked in here. And to be honest… I still have no idea.”

“No offense, but why are you even here? I don’t know you all that well but this doesn’t really seem to be your gig.”

“You know it’s a rather long story-”

“That I’m sure he would love to tell you, but unfortunately he currently is needed bringing tea to our positively parched guests.” Interrupted the person who was quickly becoming enemy number one.

“Senpai, I don’t think anyone needs tea right-”

“ _Now_ , Haruhi.” He rolled his eyes and threw me an apologetic glance before making his way to the back room to, I suspect, where the kitchen was located.

“Geez so you’re just a dick to _everyone_ , huh?” I asked, sliding into the chair across from him.

He didn’t bother to grace me with a response, focusing solely on his work, and that wasn’t going to fly with me.

“Well, since you interrupted Haruhi before he could tell me what the fuck this place is on, why don’t _you_ tell me, oh knowledgeable one.” He meticulously closed his laptop, careful to not let the undoubtedly overwhelming sense of irritation show on his face.

“The Ouran Host Club is where the school’s handsomest-”

“Boys with too much time on their hands entertain young ladies who also have way too much time on their hands, yada yada yada, already heard it thanks.” He glared at my interruption but I trudged onward. “What I want to know is what the hell is going on here. For realsies.” He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“The Host Club is a place where we entertain young ladies with our company. Many times we do what you see here, simple socializing, but sometimes we hold themed days or events. Each host has a type,” he gestured around the room to the acts I had already seen “the Little Devils, the Loli-Shota, the Wild type, and the Prince Charming. You friend Haruhi there is the Natural type. Our club utilizes each man’s individual characteristics to carter to the needs of our guests.” I nodded, faking like I was deep in thought.

“And what are you, the Asshole type? Is that why you don’t have any clients? Because no one likes you?” He rolled his eyes.

“ _You’re_ sitting here, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, to piss you off. Is it working?”

“Hardly.” He responded in a monotone, returning to working on his laptop.

“Guess I’ll have to try a little harder then.”

“Do your worst.” I sat in silence for a moment, realizing I was more a girl of words than a girl of action, when I decided I might as well do what I do best: being a nuisance who doesn’t know when to shut the fuck up.

“Sooo… whatcha doing?”

“I’m working.” He replied curtly.

“On what.”

“The club finances.”

“Finances?”

“Yes. Budgeting and such - it’s quite simple really. Now, I knew you were daft but it seems you’re worse off than I thought.”

“I’m going to ignore that in lieu of asking the important question: you really charge girls to sit here and talk to you assholes?”

“Hardly. All the money we make comes from merchandise sales.”

“ _Merchandise_ sales? You’re lying.”

“Not at all.” And then seemingly out of nowhere he pulled out a stack of photo books with a picture of the hosts’ gleaming smiles of the front of each glossy cover.

What has this world come to…” I muttered as I flipped through the books. There was everything from glamour shots to sexy shirtless photos to themed costumes. It was ridiculous.

“And girls _actually_ buy this?” I asked in disbelief, tossing the photo books back onto the table.

“Why yes, they’re quite popular actually.” I clicked my tongue and shrugged.

“Huh. Well, to each their own I suppose.”

“Indeed. What’s _your_ fancy then, Kaeden.” He sneered.

“Not _you_ , that’s for damn sure.” I answered icily.

“No, I suppose not. You made that awfully clear last week, and yet you turn up here, not but a few days later. You’re not following me, are you?” He asked, smirking.

“You wish, creep. I can guarantee it was my intention to get as far away from you as physically possible.”

“Yes, well. Looks like the product of divine intervention.”

“More like a satanic one if you ask me…” I mumbled under my breath. It was then that Haruhi returned, tea set in hand.

“Well it looks like you two are getting along.”

“I would hardly-”

“Are you kidding-“ Kyoya and I glared at each other as we simultaneously trailed off.

“I have some clients coming in soon. Would you like to sit with me Kaeden?”

“Gladly.” I responded as I picked up my book bag and shuffled out of my seat. I glared at Kyoya over my shoulder as I left, and the smirk he gave me back left me feeling like he was plotting something…

* * *

I checked the time and quickly realized that I had spent almost over an hour watching Haruhi talk with the ladies, and it was honestly? Actually pretty fascinating. This entire place was like a fucking acid trip and watching the hosts perform the same acts over and over again (and watching every new batch of girls fall for it) was like a god damn fever dream.

It wasn’t long before Dildotree officially closed up the club and wished the ladies, “a safe travel home and swift return, for we, at the Host Club, are awaiting your return.”

I flopped down on the couch waiting for Haruhi to finish whatever business he had before leaving when Clone Two (Hikaru, as he was called earlier I believe) approached me.

“What’re _you_ still doing here?”

“Me?”

“Yes you. Who _else_ would I be talking to?”

“Well, fucknut, I’m waiting for Haruhi for your information.”

“Haruhi doesn’t need _you_. She has us, and we’re all she’ll ever need.”

“She?” I raised my eyebrows in disbelief, “ _She_? You know, I already thought you guys were assholes but man, are you a real piece of work. How _dare_ you disrespect Haruhi’s-”

“What? No, it’s not like that at all!” He yelled in a panicked state.

“Not like _what_? Haruhi has as much of a right to being properly identified as you or I and it’s exceptionally rude for you to walk all over that and act like you can just-”

“Woah, what am I missing.” Asked Haruhi as he emerged from the back room.

“Nothing Haruhi, I’m handling it. We can leave in a second.” I responded to him apologetically as I turned to finish off what was left of the ginger menace.

“ _You_ on the other hand-”

“Haruhi, please explain to her the situation. I’m not a mean person I swear it’s not what it seems-”

“Stop it both of you!” Haruhi yelled, firmly rooting himself between us, “Now tell me what is going on.”

“Look, Hikaru here seems to have forgotten what common human decency was so I was just _reminding_ him.” I raised my fist, ready to throw my second punch of the day.

“No, it’s not- that’s not- Haruhi will you please just tell her the truth about this whole thing so I don’t have to deal with this!” Yelled a panicked Hikaru.

“About _what_ thing.” I snarled at him, still entirely ready to rip his face off.

“Haruhi-” Hikaru pleaded.

“Oh. OH! Okay. Kaeden, I’m not actually a guy.”

“You’re… not?” I asked. Now I was confused.

“No, I’m just _pretending_ to be one.” I sat silent for a second, thoroughly bewildered.

“So… you’re not…trans?”

“No.”

“So I shouldn’t kill clone asshole over here for calling you a ‘she?’”

“I’d prefer if you didn’t actually.”

“What would you like me to refer to you by?”

“Personally, neither bother me, but I’m a girl.” Well, that’s that I guess.

“Okie dokie.” I said cheerfully, releasing my hold on Hikaru’s vibrant hair. “Let’s eat then, I’m starving.”

“That’s _it_? You almost kill me and all I get is an ‘okie dokie.?!’”

“Hey be grateful you even get an okie dokie fuckboy. I still don’t like you.”

“Well I don’t like you either.” He sniffed, clearly offended.

“Glad we’re on the same page then.”

“Kaeden!” yelled Haruhi, half way out the door.

“Coming!” I yelled cheerily, tagging along behind her.

I survived day one, and that’s the best I can ask for at this point.

I hope day two will go just as well.


	7. Chapter 7

Day two did not go well.

Actually, it started off well enough. It’s great, it’s swell, my hair looks bomb af, I slayed my eyeliner, _and_ I was on time for school. As I was walking with Haruhi, I remarked that it was looking to be a nice day.

I was wrong. I was very wrong.

By the time I had made it to English, I was in a good enough mood that being blindsided by a pop quiz had very little impact on my psyche (that and the fact that it’s my native language, like how hard is that shit?) What _did_ have an impact on my psyche, however, was _failing_ said pop quiz.

“What the hell do you _mean_ I got a 47%?”

“I mean that you got a 47%.”

“ _How_?”

“I should be asking _you_ that.”

“No seriously,” I demanded, exasperated, “how did I fail this test? It was a review on advanced personality adjectives and the conditional tense. I _speak_ the language natively god dammit! This is objectively impossible.”

“Maybe you’re just not as proficient as you thought.” Challenged the teacher, irritated.

“I _really_ don’t think that’s it.”

“Well, I _really_ don’t care.”

“Well, you’re _really_ starting to piss me off, you know that?” Before the fight could turn into a mob wives-level catfight (and with the amount of tension between the two of us, it was getting there), Honey bounded up, stuffed rabbit in one hand and a pink crayon in the other, the friendly giant trailing behind him.

“Kae-chan, why don’t you come color with us!” I looked down at the kid coldly.

“Look _pipsqueak_ , I’m _really_ not in the mood for your cutie pie bullsh-” My sentence was cut off as I suddenly wheezed, both in surprise and physical exertion. I was airborne, Kaeden had officially reached 0 G’s. And then, just as quickly as air entered my lungs, it was forced out by the boney protrusion of a shoulder digging into my stomach. Needless to say it was the most uncomfortable I had ever been in the span of about four seconds.

The now not-so-friendly giant had straight slung me like a sack of potatoes over his back and was making his way back to our desks, the hobbit in tow.

“Mori!” I shrieked, pissed that a) I wasn’t able to finish my argument with the teacher and b) I was being _manhandled_ , “Put me down this instant!”

“No.” He stated solemnly. I tried to wiggle free, but for all of my height and strength, Mori had four inches and about seventy pounds of pure muscle on me. I was toast.

I scoffed and angrily crossed my arms (or tried to as best I could when I was being carried like a fucking knapsack) and resigned myself to being carried like a child back to my desk.

We continued on past our desks and when I asked just _where the fuck_ he was going, he all but dropped me onto a chair in the back corner of the class and I couldn’t help but feel like I had chipped off a portion of my tailbone.

“Fucking ow…” I muttered under my breath as I glared up at my captor, who had pulled up a chair in front of me.

“Mitsukuni, why don’t you go back to coloring,” Mori said lowly, his tone suggesting it was less of a suggestion and more of an order. Honey looked quickly between the two of us and shrugged before bouncing off to get more paper.

“What the _fuck_ did you do that for?” I spat, properly crossing my arms this time. He just stared at me, and under his gaze I felt like a little kid who got caught with their hand in a cookie jar.

“What?” I snapped, irritably. I hated being called out. “I was _trying_ to fix my stupid test with that idiot of a teacher, and now no thanks to _you_ , I’ll be stuck with a fucking F.”

“You would have been sent to the office. Again. And most likely suspended.” I gasped and dropped my jaw in irate incredulity.

“How did you know about that?” I hissed, my eyes darting around the classroom. I couldn’t very well have everyone in the school aware of my current…disciplinary standing. It would completely invalidate all of my threats. Mori was unfazed, and didn’t bother to answer.

“Well, I didn’t need _your_ help okay?” I scoffed, “I could have handle it. I’m not _stupid_.” He stared at me for a moment before shaking his head.

“You were one wrong word away from suspension.” I sat in silence for a moment, replaying the conversation I had with the teacher. Was it really that bad?

I widened my eyes and closed my mouth. I had _sworn_ at a teacher! Fuck! I was lucky my ass wasn’t in the office right now!

“Mitsukuni was trying to keep that from happening.” I then replayed my cruel words to the kid.

“And I…” I replayed my harsh words, cringing. Mori nodded solemnly, “Oh god,” I groaned, dropping my head into my hands. Why was being nice so goddamn hard for me?

“I’m sorry…” I offered weakly. He nodded but then shifted his gaze to the small blond sitting at his desk a few rows up. I made to get up but was reminded of my… less than soft landing and all but grabbed my lower back, groaning.

Mori grimaced slightly, and I took it as an apology. I shook my head.

“Nah it’s my fault anyways. Kind of deserved it if we’re being honest,” I extended my hand, “Truce?"

He nodded silently, shaking my hand. I then made my way back to our desks.    

“Honey…” He responded with a hum as he colored a flower with crayons. 17 my _ass_.

“I’m sorry for being mean earlier. That wasn’t very nice of me.” He looked up from his drawing and giggled.

“It’s okay Kae-chan, I know you were mad about your test score. Do you want to color?”

“Yeah, I think I do. Is that okay?”

“Of course!” Honey beamed and handed me a piece of paper and some crayons. Mori took a seat across from us and took out a small leather-bound notebook. I needed to remind myself to ask what was in it.

“Are you mad at me?” I asked, hesitantly. I wasn’t used to straight forgiveness, and if I ever got it (or what looked like it), it came with a whole week’s worth of passive-aggression.

“Of course not! We’re friends!”

“We… are?” I asked, confused. Hadn’t I met him _yesterday_?

“Aren’t we?” Honey asked, crocodile tears welling up in his huge puppy dog eyes. I looked up to find Mori watching me passively. I winked.

“Of _course_ we’re friends silly!” I answered cheerfully. Honey squealed and gave me a huge bear hug, Mori nodded solemnly and returned to whatever he had been writing.

Honey and I colored together until the bell finally rang signaling our release, and I made to book it out of class. However, I found the hobbit holding on to the hem of my sweater, giving me the largest puppy dog eyes I had ever seen on a living creature – human or otherwise.

“Honey… I’ve got to go to my next class…” I pleaded quietly, remembering how far of a walk it was.

“Will you promise to come to the host club today? Pleaseeee Kae-chan?” He begged.

“Well…” I cycled between Honey’s adorable face and Mori’s blank, if not a tad inquisitive expression – he was as curious about my answer as Honey was. I rolled my eyes and sighed melodramatically, as if it were the biggest inconvenience in the world. “We’re friends right? I guess I _have_ to go now.” I grinned. Besides, I wanted to walk home again with Haruhi. It wouldn’t be too bad of a time. Maybe I’d even sit with them today.

Honey cheered loudly and glomped me once again before skipping off. As Mori made to follow him I caught him by the arm.

“Thanks for setting me straight.” He nodded silently, before leaving to go find his small companion.

I sat down on the desk and groaned and I dug my hands into my hair. I needed to learn how to behave if I wanted even a _chance_ of surviving this place.

I rubbed my eyes and checked the time on my phone as I finally left. I had literally three minutes to get to my class across the school. Great. Well, if I’m going to be late, might as well make it fashionably.

* * *

I really only was two minutes late because I’m a pussy bitch who can’t deal with the consequences of my actions, but apparently two minutes was enough to make a spectacle of myself. All eyes were on me as I trudged into class and took my spot front and center, hoping to avoid confrontation. I was wrong. 

“Miss Hale, would you care to explain why you are late?”

“Not particularly,” I answered, opting instead to put my head down on my desk.

“Then, unfortunately, I’m going to have to give you detention for lunch today.” The class ‘oo-ed’ dramatically at the threat, but I merely rolled my eyes.

“Oooh, _you know_ , I’m going to have to take a rain check on that one. I’m all booked up for detention this week. So if you’re going to punish me, make sure to aim for next Monday at the earliest.” The teacher narrowed his eyes at my sass, but his gaze was quickly diverted to the clock.

“You have a week long detention already? How- no, you know what? I don’t want to know. I have to get through the Crusades in the next hour. You have detention on Monday.” I clicked my tongue and resigned myself to the fact that I may very well be forever doomed to lunch-time detention before deciding that, for the second day in the row, today was not a day for concentration.

By the time our break rolled around I was ready to die of boredom and greatly relished the ability to stretch my legs. However, as soon as I made to get up, a certain asshole was posted in front of my desk. He placed a decorative box with a bow on top on my desk. I was immediately suspicious.

“For you,” he gestured sweetly to the gift. What the fuck? Welcome to left field I guess. I narrowed my eyes and scooted back as far away from the desk as I could.

“Well if it isn’t my favorite asshole. Is this a bomb?” I asked, apprehensive. His laugh was light, but the accompanying smile was tight.

“Of course not; it’s a gift for you.” I could tell he was trying his best to act sincere, but his smile had a sort of Ken-doll quality to it that said otherwise.

What motivation would this thundercunt have for giving me a gift if not to brutally murder me? I mean I didn’t think he’d be so blatant about it but I guess you can’t judge a person by their murderous thoughts.

“ _Why_?” I asked, determined to figure what fucking dimension I had just fallen into. At this point, a small group had gathered around my desk, which was a little annoying, but at least there would be a bunch of witnesses if it _were_ a bomb. I could see Tamaki watching from a few students back, strangely silent and impassive.

“Why not mademoiselle?” I narrowed my eyes.

“I can think of exactly five day’s worth of reasons why.” I retorted, referring to our first meeting last Thursday.

“Perhaps I want to extend an olive branch.” I snorted.

“Sure. And I’m a monkey’s uncle.”

“I can neither confirm nor deny that fact,” I rolled my eyes, at least he still had it in him to be a little snarky, “Just open it.” He ordered; I could tell irritation was creeping in. I studied him for a minute or two, trying to determine what kind of trap was contained in this box.

I hesitantly pulled the lid off and braced myself for an explosion, a spring-loaded knife, _anything_. It was rather anti-climatic.

I peered inside to find no weapons, only nauseatingly pink tissue paper and… _jewelry_?

It was a necklace and a pair of earrings. A _very expensive looking_ necklace and pair of earrings – they were borderline gaudy. All of the girls surrounding my desk immediately swooned. And I was immediately suspicious again.

“What is _this_?” I asked, baffled.

“A gift.” Kyoya answered matter of factly.

“And _this_ is your peace offering to me?”

“Yes.” Jewelry. How impersonal. I sat and thought for a moment about this gutter slag’s sudden “change of heart.”

I wasn’t buying it. Not a damn bit. I didn’t know what the fuck this is all about, but I really didn’t want to find out.

“Well I don’t want it.” I answered, pushing the box away from me. The girls in the crowd around me gasped comically, and Kyoya seemed slightly surprised as well.

“If these aren’t your taste, then what would you prefer. I’d be happy to get you something different.” He answered. It was fake. It was so fake. His smile was fake, his words were fake, the stupid necklace and earrings were fake (well I think they were real and _very_ expensive, but they were metaphorically fake).

“I don’t want _anything_ from you. You can’t _buy_ me.” He sighed impatiently and glanced around at the crowd of students standing around him, obviously trying to weigh his options in order to avoid causing a scene. He leaned close to me to avoid being overheard.

“I’m not trying to _buy_ you. Just take the damn jewelry.” He said, low and tight. I could tell I was getting under his skin.

“Ooh does your Daddy know you use those dirty words, Kyoya? Naughty naughty.” I smirked. He gritted his teeth angrily.

“Take. The fucking. Jewelry.” I leaned in to whisper my response in his ear.

“ _No_.”

When I sat back, I honestly believed he was ready to strangle me, but luckily, I was saved by the bell, and all of the students, including jolly ole’ gift giving St. Nick himself, returned to their seats, whispering amongst themselves the entire way. However, that stupid box was still on my desk, and I _didn’t want it_.

I turned around and went to leave it on his desk but was stopped by his harsh whisper.

“I promise you they are worth a lot of money, money you no longer have. And I wasn’t lying when I said I’d get you something else. What do you want? A laptop? A car? A trip to Disneyland?” I rolled my eyes.

“Unfortunately I’m not nearly as materialistic as most of the people you deal with. And you weren’t listening. You can’t _buy_ my forgiveness, and if you think you can, you don’t deserve it.”

“I’m not trying to buy your forgiveness.” He once again insisted impatiently.

“I think that’s _exactly_ what you’re doing. You can’t bribe me like the rest of your… _associates_.” I whispered back hotly, “Now are you going to take back this shit or not?”

“No, I told you it’s a peace offering. Keep it, sell it, do what you wish.” I groaned, annoyed. If he didn’t want it, that’s fine. But I’m _not_ taking it.

And I’m making that pretty damn clear.

I got up out of my chair and dumped the box in the trashcan loudly, shooting him a pointed look. I could see Tamaki watching with wide eyes in the seat next to him, and I was surprised that he had remained silent the entire time. The teacher stopped talking at the noise, and as I silently made my way back to my seat I could see many of the girls staring at me, shocked.

As I returned to my seat, I leaned into him again to angrily whisper, “I don’t want your ‘friendship’,” I quoted the air with my fingers, “I want you to leave me alone.” Kyoya looked about ready to gut me and resorted to tightly shutting his eyes and pinching his nose bridge. He took a calming deep breath before being able to face me again, and I was proud that I had gotten under his skin that much. But he still didn’t give up.

“I am determined to mend this rift between us.”

“ _Why?_ I don’t like you, you don’t like me, why can’t we keep it at that.” I could not understand for the life of me where he was coming from. Once again, _hello_ left field.

“I think we got off on the wrong foot.”

“I think we got off on the wrong surprise-marriage-proposal-that-destroyed-my-family thank you very much. You didn’t seem so kind and forgiving then, now did you?”

“Perhaps… I’ve recognized the error in my ways?” It sounded more like a question than a statement, and the insincerity of it all bleed through every word. I rolled my eyes.

“And what do _you_ think of this Tamaki.” Tamaki looked shocked that I had brought him into this and his wide eyes quickly flickered back and forth between Kyoya and myself. He had a look on his face like he was trying very hard to keep from throwing up, but after a few moments of frantic thinking, it looked as if the floodgates had been thrown open. Immediately he began waving his hands wildly, his attempt at being quiet ending up as more of an exaggerated stage whisper.

“I told him it wouldn’t work I said ‘that’s not how you win back a lady’ that’s what I told him and did he listen to me? No, he didn’t! And I was right! I knew that if he wanted to get back into your good graces that he’d have to apologize-”

Kyoya immediately clamped a hand over Tamaki’s mouth, and I grinned.

“Yeah Kyoya. Why don’t you _apologize_?” I taunted. His glare hardened, but he remained silent. We stared at each other for a few moments.

“Yeah… that’s what I thou-”

“Kaeden Colleen Hale, I sincerely apologize for my actions last week. I hope you can forgive me.” My eyes widened to the size of dinner plates at his declaration. Well, it was less of a declaration and more of a monotone recitation

“Apology noted. Forgiveness denied.”

* * *

 

The rest of class was noticeably tense, not just between Kyoya and myself, but apparently a good portion of the female population of the class now had some sort of vendetta against me. Not that I’m surprised, considering the host club has the _entire fucking school_ wrapped around their fingers, but it still kind of sucked.

On the bright side, all the guys in class seemed to really dig my sass. Between the fact that I punched Akira in the face yesterday in gym (who apparently is a really unpopular and disliked guy – who would’ve guessed?) and the fact that I just straight rejected a host in the most blatant (and, if we’re being honest – disrespectful) way possible, I guess I was on their good sides. 

“Geez, you’re like, the first girl to not fall for their _hostly charms_.” One kid, Akihiko I think, commented sarcastically on our break between classes. I laughed and rolled my eyes.

“Yeah they’re not really all that great. More of a nuisance if you ask me.” The small group of guys near me nodded and let out loud “Amen!”s. Apparently, there had been a lot of problems with girls getting starstruck for the perpetually unavailable hosts and leaving a lot of the rest of the male population of Ouran in the dust.

“I mean, how do you compete with a club of men tailored to fit every girl’s need?” I nodded.

“They’re selling a fantasy. Of course reality doesn’t measure up.” I replied.

“Exactly!” Another guy exclaimed, “And the worst is when they’ve confessed and been rejected (which they always are), they come crawling back to us, still expecting to be treated like they’re at the host club. We just can’t keep up!” He was exasperated, and it was kind of funny how bent out of shape all of these guys were getting about the host club. I wonder if Tamaki knew his peers felt like this?

“No I totally get it. Maybe you should start a “mediocre boyfriends” club to lower the girls’ expectations,” I joked. Most guys laughed but I got worried when I saw a couple seem to take it a little seriously.

Geez, between the hosts, their fangirls, and the fangirls’ desperate “mediocre boyfriends,” I’m kind of worried about these Ouran kids.

Just kidding, that’s not _my_ fucking problem.

By the time I was out of that hellhole they call a class, I’d had already received a death threat or two on my school email (which is available to the entire school population – how convenient) and more nasty looks than I could count.

You know I usually aim to piss off one or two people a day, but at this rate I’ve already met my entire month’s quota! I tried to avoid making contact on my way out of the classroom, and while I never want to look like I’m, god forbid, _enthusiastic_ about anything, I straight rushed out of the class and straight to detention. I never thought I’d be thankful for a week’s worth of detention, but since it gave me a pretty great excuse for not having to face any of my pissed-off peers, I was pretty hype.

When I arrived, I was under the impression I’d be cleaning a classroom, or “Uncle’s” office or something. What I was not expecting was the woman in a pantsuit sitting on the couch, “Uncle” nowhere to be found.

“Um… hi. Do you know where I can find the Chairman?” I asked. Maybe he went to the bathroom?

“Kaeden Hale, right?” She asked sweetly, looking down at the legal pad in front of her. Now I was mega confused. I nodded my head slowly. What the hell was going on here?

“Hi. I’m Shime Osmai. I’m a counselor brought in by Chairman Suoh to help you work through some of your anger issues.” I was immediately fuming.

“Where is he?” I asked, barely containing my anger.

“He has left us so that we may talk in private.” She answered.

“Okay, well can you call him or something? Because I think there’s a misunderstanding here. I don’t need counseling. I’m not angry. Well, I am angry _now_. But I’m not like, chronically angry. So thanks but no thanks?”

“Kaeden!” I jumped at the sudden noise of a door flying open. To my (honestly misplaced) surprise, it was the Chairman bursting out of what seemed to be a coat closet, of all the ridiculous things…

“Yes sir?”

“It’s ‘Uncle’ dear, and I really want you to talk to Miss Shime here for the duration of your detention this week.”

I sighed and rubbed my temples, “Can’t I just… wash the chalkboards or mop floors or something?”

“No-”

“What about scraping gum off the bottom of desks?”

“No, Ka-”

“What about scrubbing toilets with my toothbrush?”

“Kaeden! That is certainly not a very suitable punishment for a student.”

“I’ll take it, and all of the others, over sitting around for an hour talking about my ‘ _feelings’_.” I spat the word in disgust. Ew. Emotions. Gross.

“I really think it would benefit you to talk with Miss Shime about some of the _home_ difficulties you’ve been having…” He trailed off suggestively, hinting at what I can only assume to be some sort of secret knowledge (or not so secret, if you ask the rumor mills) of my recent estrangement from my father. Needless to say I was _pissed_.

“How…How _dare_ you–” I began to round on him but by the time I was within maiming distance he had yelled a hasty “Good luck!” (whether it was to me or Miss Shime it was directed remains a mystery) and slammed the door shut. I think I heard the click of a lock too.

Well, shit.

Now I was locked in here with a crazy therapist. Great.

“Listen lady, if you think I’m gonna sit here and blubber about my Daddy issues and tell you about my _emotions,_ then you’ve got another thing coming.”

She was really gonna get it.


	8. Chapter 8

She did not have anything coming from me because the only thing she got was years of repressed childhood trauma and every bad memory I could dig up about my father.

The only excuse I can give is that she’s kind of a cool person? I mean, she brought cookies.

I nibbled my delicious (and homemade) snickerdoodle and listened as she offered some advice on moving on; namely by accepting that my father was a huge asshole and that I am totally deserving of love regardless of my lifestyle. Which sounds odd, but I harbor a surprising amount of guilt I guess.

Whoo, therapy.

But I was not about to admit my vent session to “Uncle,” who was waiting for me on the other side of the door to his office.

“Sooo, how’d it go?”

“Awful, horrible, terrible, she’ll probably never return to counseling, I feel bad you set her up with me.” I replied.

“So you made progress and you’ll be seeing her tomorrow?” He saw right through me dammit.

Well I _had_ tried to sound convincingly devious, I really did. I just glared at him and sighed.

“I guess…”

“It was the cookies wasn’t it?” I rolled my eyes and grinned.

“It was totally the cookies.”

* * *

I had so much emotional tension left after my “therapy session” (in quotes not because it wasn’t a real therapy session but because I still kind of refuse to acknowledge it happened), that when I found out we were playing football in class I was MEGA hype. I locked my gaze onto that dick Akira from across the field and burned enough lazer-eye-vision holes into him that he and everyone else in the general vicinity should’ve been well aware of the coming events.

However, we were put on the same team. Pffft… like that’ll stop me. Who says friendly fire isn’t allowed? It’s frowned upon, but not technically against the rules. I think. So, uh, @Akira - run.

Everyone was kind enough to stay out of my way as I relentlessly and brutally pursued my “teammate,” and after my fourth tackle (read “death blow”), the teacher eventually called me over to have a “chat” about my “antics.”

“Why are you tackling your teammate?”

“Well, you know according to the NFL Official Rulebook on page 17 paragraph 3 line 32,” I started, randomly throwing out numbers confidently, “tackling teammates isn’t necessarily against the rules as much as just not a good tactic to win a football game. However, it is in fact sometimes almost necessary in certain situations in which-”

“Okay I get it I get it. Do whatever you want.”

“Okie dokie.” I saluted and turned to continue my onslaught on Akira.

“Wait... Miss Hale?”

“Yes coach?”

“Why do you have the NFL Official Rulebook memorized?” Shit. Improv.

“Why, I’m an American sir. All Americans have to memorize the NFL Official Rulebook and the Preamble to the Constitution in the third grade in order to get their patriot certification.” My drawl was practically sarcastic, but I could tell by the look on his face that I was about to get away scot-free.

“Ah, yes… I knew that.”

“I’m sure you did sir.” I nearly rolled my eyes at the ridiculous exchange. I can’t _believe_ he bought that. The things you can get away with here…

After taking out Akira a good couple more times (he tried to run, he really did), I called it a personal win and made my way to my final class of the day.

I had prepared for a shitty hour or two of Japanese. I had _not_ prepared for a shitty hour or two (or even fifteen minutes) of a Japanese test. Do they just not notify people?

“No they do, you just don’t pay attention,” replied Haruhi to what must’ve been my exasperated question asked aloud.

“Damn.”

* * *

Yeah I failed it. 

Surprisingly, I didn’t fail it as badly as I failed my English test earlier today (which I am _still_ pissed about tbh) but I still failed it. The twins were currently giggling behind their hands at my grade while Haruhi was just looking at my paper as she shook her head in disappointment. And Kaeden has officially decided that she has had enough.

“Sensei, may I go to the nurse’s office.” I asked, exasperated with the day’s events and looking for a nap.

Sensei must have sensed this (ha, get it? _Sense_ i? I’m underappreciated…) because she looked me up and down before deciding that I looked well enough to be in class, so _no, I couldn’t go to the nurse’s office._ This failure caused the twins to laugh even harder, delighted by my misfortune.

Well that shit was not about to fly with me, not after the type of day that I’ve had. I looked around to see what I had to work with to get me out of this hellhole when I found the perfect solution.

I pushed past the hysterical twins and picked up the stapler from the desk.

And immediately stapled my hand.

“ _Now_ may I go to the nurse’s office?” The twins immediately stopped laughing and stared as the frozen teacher narrowed her eyes at me.

“Did you just- No! You cant just sta-” The sound of the stapler going off into my hand a second time cut off her lecture.

“ _Now_ may I go to the nurse’s office?” I repeated with the exact same tone and infliction.

“What are you doi-” Another staple.

“ _Now_ may I go to the nurse’s office?” I could do this forever. I’m dead inside. She seemed to realize this as well.

“Yes! Fine! Whatever to make you stop stapling yourself!” The teacher spat out, exasperated with my shenanigans.

I was so internally wrecked that I took this as a victory. So what if I have three staples in my hand? Free naps!

I pushed back past the shell-shocked twins to gather my stuff.

“Geez…” Hikaru started.

“She really is crazy.” Finished Kaoru, now dramatically clinging to his brother. I rolled my eyes as I picked out the staples from the flesh of my palm.

“Crazy or not, now I get to nap. See you losers in an hour.”

* * *

I actually got in an hour and a half of a nap in before actual asshole Kyoya Ootori came waltzing in demanding I show up to the host club. 

“Fuck no.” I responded, muffled by the paper pillow my face was buried in. If the nurse couldn’t get me to leave after the final bell rang, this knicker-sniffer wouldn’t be able to do shit.

Kyoya had somehow understood my muffled rejection and began to tap his fingers impatiently on the wall he was leaned up against.

“Listen, apparently you promised that you would sit with Honey at the host club today. Well, you’re obviously not there and it has made Honey so upset he’s not participating in the club. Now get up before I’m forced to retrieve the twins to carry you.” He ground out impatiently.

I’m not sure whether it was the fact that I had upset Honey or the threat of physical force via evil twins that left a nasty taste in my mouth, but either way I hastily threw on my shoes and was up and out the door not five seconds after Kyoya’s words.

Au revoir nap, you will be dearly missed.

I rushed to the host club if for no other reason that to stay a couple steps ahead of Kyoya at all times. Not about to risk having to make small talk. No sir-ee.

I stopped in front of the large wooden doors to compose myself enough to avoid making a scene when I opened the doors. However, luck was not on my side, because as I pushed open the heavy doors my dumb foot decided to trip on the shoelace I hadn’t bothered to tie early.

I hit the floor hard enough to generate a 7-point earthquake and all activity in the host club stopped and became focused on me. Quick Kaeden say something funny to release tension.

“Gravity, thou art a cold heartless bitch.” I said dramatically, a mock frown on my face as I clutched my chest. I got a few giggles from the girls in the crowd and an eye roll from Haruhi. So much for avoiding a dramatic entrance.

As I got up and dusted myself off, the hobbit bounded up to me giggling, and clearly in a better mood than Kyoya had been describing to me earlier.

“Hey there Kae-chan! Are you okay?”

“Hey bud! I’m totally good, falling is basic Kaeden behavior 101. Sorry for not being here earlier. I passed out in the nurse’s office and lost track of time.”

“That’s okay! I was worried you forgot.”

“Not for the world!” We began walking over to their usual spot with a gaggle of girls following in our wake. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to being constantly listened to and having attention on me at all times by at least one girl. Kinda creepy.

As we took our seats, one of the girls gasped and pointed to my jeans, which were steadily gathering red streaks as I nervously rubbed my palms on them.

“Kae-chan! You’re bleeding!” I laughed and held up my palm, showing the small scabs that were coming loose as I rubbed my hands on the rough denim.

“Oh don’t worry! I stapled my hand earlier today so that I could go nap in the nurse’s office.” Most of the girls gave me this wide-eyed look of terror before Haruhi one table over tossed in an exasperated, “three times. You stapled your hand three times so you could go to the nurse’s office.” Although none of the girls could initially bring themselves to laugh in light of my self-mutilation, me laughing my ass off brought a couple around to giggle lightly at my actions. 

I wiped my eyes from the tears that had accumulated there from laughing so hard and sighed.

“Yeah if that seemed like a good idea to me imagine what the rest of my day has been like.”

“What _was_ the rest of your day like?” One of the girls asked curiously.

“Ooh boy let me tell you…” I began adjective as I launched into an only _slightly_ exaggerated story about the shitshow that was my day.

I had one girl full on dying before I was interrupted by one of my more critical listeners.

“Why did you reject Kyoya’s gift?” she asked borderline venomously. It was an event I hadn’t brought up yet so it was probably something that she experienced the hate for in real time. Fun. How do I explain this to someone who already despises me and thinks Kyoya is a pinnacle human?

“Why, Kyoya is a commodity to be shared, I could _never_ steal him away from the world like that. It just wouldn't be fair.” That works right?

It seemed to, as she fixed her expression to be less judgmental and nodded, clearly thinking about my fake-ass response as I continued my story.

By the time the dramatized version of my day’s events came to a conclusion (complete with Kyoya waking me up with the entire marching band playing “Pomp and Circumstance”), I had a gathering of about half of the host club’s female attendees tuning in, completely entranced by my story. Which felt good. A girl could get used to this level of attention.

No wonder these egomaniacs do it all the time.

Once my story wound down, one girl exclaimed, “You should tell stories more often Kae-chan!” and as a bunch of the other girls chimed in their assent, I felt appreciated for once in my goddamn life.

I laughed, “I’m glad you enjoyed it! Now run along before Tamaki accuses me of stealing his favorite guest. I’ll never hear the end of it!” Really, appealing to these girls wasn’t all that hard, no wonder these guys are making bank. I may hate Kyoya, but I gotta hand it to him: it makes one hell of a business model.

After my own spectacle of a story, I sat relatively quietly observing the host club. It was so weird, almost like an alien planet, watching all the hosts interact with their guests.

Tamaki was as generic and flawless as always, the twins just as incesty and weird, the hobbit just as hungry, the giant just as silent, and Kyoya just as… assholey. Haruhi was the light in the dark, but now she was in the back making tea. All in all, it was just as weird and mildly annoying as my last visit.

So I guess one day wasn’t really enough for me to have changed my critical perspective on the fuckery that occurred all that much, but when I look at it through the lens of a business, they sure know how to work their market.

Find a girl’s fetish, exploit it, profit. Sex sells. I borrowed some girl’s host club “photo books” and flipped through it. It was just pictures of the boys in different costumes, which is fucking ridiculous but also literally free money for the host club.

“Are you enjoying yourself?” asked an all too familiar voice. I snapped shut the photo book and rolled my eyes.

“Don’t you have lives to ruin?”

“And don’t you have gracious presents to reject?”

“Oh do _not_ even act like that was a bona fide olive branch buddy, we both know you were bribing my ass with expensive jewelry. I didn’t forgive you earlier, don’t forgive you now, and will not forgive you in the future. So _lay off_.”

“Why are you insisting on being difficult?”

“Why are _you_ insisting on bothering me?” He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, obviously frustrated. I smirked, victorious.

“Listen, I can’t make you like me-”

“You can’t and you won’t.” I interrupted. He glared venomously as he continued his sentence.

“I can’t make you like me, but the other hosts, namely Haruhi, have persuaded me that keeping you around is… profitable. I would much rather throw you out, but if you are going to be allowed to stay then I cannot have you hate me as vehemently as you do.” The threat was clear: shape up or ship out. I rolled my eyes and sighed.

“I guess I can try to act a little nicer towards you. Under one condition.”

“Name it.”

“You stop adding to Haruhi’s debt for superfluous bullshit.” I saw his eyes widen as he swept the room for any possible eavesdroppers.

“How did you-”

“She told me yesterday while we were walking home. I kind of needed an explanation for the whole “girl masking as a boy to be in the host club” thing. She also told me about your tendencies to raise her debt ridiculously. Or at least hold it over her head. And I’m not with the shits. So do we have a deal or not?” He clearly needed a minute to process my words, as well as my offer.

“I have to stop adding to Haruhi’s debt when no physical damage has been dealt?”

“Yes.”

“You will stop acting so rude towards me?”

“I’ll work on it.”

“You will accept the gift I gave you earlier as a peace offering?”

“Don’t push it.”

* * *

As the host club came to an end, I found that my second day there wasn’t nearly as bad as my first one. I mean, my eardrums were still busted from the squealing, but I had hopefully saved Haruhi from the wrath of the third Ootori son for at least a small while. 

And speak of the devil there she was.

“Ready to walk home Kaeden?”

“You betcha!”

I gathered up my stuff and we were off towards our apartment complex.

“Hey my dad is working late tonight and I was wondering if you would like to sleep over at my apartment? I’ve never really had any girl friends but you seems nice and I feel like it might be a great way to get to know one another.”

“I’d absolutely love to!”


	9. Chapter 9

“So, life stories. Spill!” Haruhi giggled. We were both curled up in pajamas and chilling in a blanket fort, ready to start out “girl talk.”

“Mine’s not that interesting.” She said, before recounting a short summary of her time with her mom and dad, as well as her enrollment in Ouran. I knew about the vase, but I hadn’t known that all the hosts had mistaken her for a boy that day and that the way Tamaki found out was walking in on her changing. I wish I would’ve been there to see his face, priceless!

We talked for a while about her clumsiness and the stupid rich kids that riddled her daily life, but when she spoke of her mother, I felt a connection I’d never really encountered before, and wasn’t really expecting to find here (and not so soon either).

Sure, I’d loved, and lost, countless people, and there was always someone to pick me up. But the way Haruhi described her mother, I felt… what was that word…

Understood.

Great, getting attached on the first date. Nice going Kaeden. Lmao who are we kidding you get attached so easily it’s a wonder you weren’t named Gorilla Glue.

“Now, it seems that you knew Kyoya previous to meeting him at the club on Monday, so I now suggest that _you_ share your own story.” I gawked at her in complete surprise.

“You know, you’re going to make _one hell_ of a lawyer some day. If I ever get arrested again I know who _I’m_ calling.” I replied jokingly, hoping to avoid the conversation she was forcing me towards.

She rolled her eyes at my silly statement but thanked me nonetheless before demanding in a tone mimicking my own just moments before: “Spill.”

And, while I would have refused in most instances (my past being a _very_ touchy subject), I felt completely safe with her, a feeling I hadn’t felt with anyone except Tyler; but I’d left him behind in California, along with my vow to never return.

With that thought, I decided I needed _someone_ to trust so far away from home, and began recounting my own story.

* * *

“Kaeden! Wake Up!” I heard the talking gummy food in the shape of a bear yell. 

What was that Mister Duck? Mister Gummy Bear is on crack?

Figures.

I flew under the cloud that was home to the Kingdom of the Victoria Secret models and cute baby animals on my magical dragon named Paco that spat lava and skittles and waved hello to Michael Jackson as he sung “Crazy Train” before realizing something very odd.

_Michael Jackson doesn’t sing Crazy Train._

With that fact under my belt I also realized my magical dragon’s name was actually Mullet, not Paco, and that this was all a dream.

“Kaeden~!” Mister Gummy Bear said again.

“Fucking _whaaaaaaaaaaaaaattttttt_?” I groaned almost incoherently.

“Wake up!”

I bolted upright at the sound of Mister Gummy Be- ah, Haruhi, yelling in my ear, and realized I was not in my dreamland or my wreck of an apartment, but in fact passed out on her floor.

I wiped my mouth and… was I drooling? _Really_?

Then again, those models _were_ covered in chocolate…

I set aside my thought of sexiness and food in lieu of focusing on what Haruhi was saying, but my brain was not processing fast enough to fully comprehend her words.

“Wait… slow down… speak slow and soft… use small words… I’m basically a hung-over baby when I wake up.”

Haruhi sighed at my inability to operate normally in the morning.

“Geez Kaeden, how are you going to even function in your first hour?” I looked at her pointedly.

“Uhh, I don’t have to duh. It’s English.”

I quickly realized that I was no longer in my school clothes, but rather a short pair of sleep shorts and a camisole.

I picked at the camisole and threw Haruhi a questioning look.

“Oh, you must not remember you were so tired. You woke up at like 3 a.m. and tried taking off all of your clothes because you were too hot in your onesie, so I found you some of my dad’s stuff to wear. Sorry if it’s weird, but I figured it’d be better than nothing.”

“Nah it’s all good, thanks a bunch actually, but this is your _dad’s_ stuff?”

“Yeah; he’s actually a drag queen.”

“… for real?”

“Yep.”

“…that’s… that’s… that’s awesome! When can I meet him?!”

“He’s actually at work, he had to cover a late-shift last night and early this morning, but he should be any minute.”

“Yes! I get to meet Haruhi’s dad~ I get to meet Haru-” I jumped up from my spot on the floor excitedly only to quickly come crashing back down as my joints and muscles screamed in protest. _Someone_ doesn’t like sleeping on the floor~.

“Aw fuck that _hurt_.” I said as I tried to work out the painful kinks and knots in my back.

“That’s your _own_ fault for sleeping on my floor.” I shot her a glare at the truth of her words.

“Ughhh but it _hurts_.” She sighed heavily at my whining.

“If you want, I could help you. I learned how to properly massage because my dad’s job is hard on him and he always comes home tired and stressed.” She offered.

“Haruhi. You are the best daughter. Person. Lawyer. Friend. _Ever_.”

She chuckled as an almost untraceable pink colored her cheeks lightly from my compliment. “Thank you. Now get over her before I revoke my offer.”

* * *

“Haruhi… my god where did you learn this?” I asked breathily as she sat on my lower back and skillfully worked out the painful points in my back and shoulders. 

“I told you- I kind of taught myself… I practiced on myself first to perfect my technique in order to get good at it. It really helps relieve stress.” She stated matter-of-factly as she switched her focus to different point near my neck.

“God, you have to teach me this!” I melted into the floor as I felt my problems literally evaporate. “Anytime I try something like this on myself it doesn’t turn out nearly as good!” I ended my sentence in a squeaky moan as she applied pressure to a particularly troublesome point, unraveling the tightly wound tension seated there.

“That’s because you have to properly learn how to use your fingers. There’s a certain way you can manipulate muscles and pressure points to really give you the best experience.”

“Christ, you should make a business out of this.”

“Haha no thanks. I’d rather _not_ have to touch people I don’t know as my primary source of income.” She chuckled.

“Suit yourself but can I at least stay your customer? Because _seriously_ , this is the best I’ve ever had.” I let a low moan as she worked through a particularly tight knot in my neck.

“Haha, maybe. Just don’t let-”

She was abruptly interrupted as the door was kicked open.

A woman with long auburn tresses and a tan overcoat stood in the doorway with an absolutely terrifying smile on her face that basically screamed, “RUN.”

“Oh hey dad!” Called Haruhi, from her position sitting on my back.

“Haruhi.” He stiffly replied. “Who’s your friend there?” He asked in a bittersweet tone that dripped with menace. Somehow, Haruhi completely missed it.

“Oh this is Kaeden! She’s from America and just moved in next-door to us. We’re schoolmates.” She answered.

“How nice.” He forced out. “Why don’t you go take a shower while I _introduce_ myself to Kaeden, hmm?”

“I mean I can take a shower later…”

“Please Haruhi? For your dear old daddy?” She was completely missing all of his cues that he wanted to speak to me, _alone_. But nonetheless she sighed and got up.

No please don’t leave not with him he is going to **_murder_** me please Haruhi….

“I could use a shower, my hair is probably getting greasy, but it’s been nicer since I cut it…” she mumbled as she walked towards the bathroom. I let out an internal sob. Here it is. My death is nigh. I leave everything I own to my dream dragon Mullet. Goodbye cruel world.

As soon as the door closed, his eyes snapped to me and I swear I could see them shoot lasers through me.

“Ah… hello Mr. Fujioka… I’ve been waiting to meet you…”

“What were you doing on the floor?” He asked sweetly. I already knew from the two minutes I’d talked to him that sugar did not come without spice with this man. There was a threat laced in every word, so I better choose my answer carefully.

“W-well sir I can explain I swear, we were up all night talking and we fell asleep before we e-even knew what happened-”

“What were you doing on the floor _underneath Haruhi_?” Whoop there it is.

“Well you see, I had fallen asleep on the floor so I had some pretty bad cramps in my back so she offered to give me a massage the sweet girl that she is and she said that she learned to help you out when you got home from long days at work so I figured ‘Sure why not’ and then you came in and saw what was must have been a really compromising position but I swear nothing was happening she was just helping me out with muscle soreness I swear and…” I trailed off, realizing that I was word vomiting again in my nervousness. This was _not_ the kind of impression I was hoping to make on Haruhi’s father.

He studied my face for a moment, still glaring. I stood frozen as he watched me, my eyes wide and my face stretched into a nervous grimace. Eventually, his pursed lips stretched into a small grin and he stood and hugged me.

“Oh I know that nothing was happening, I just like to tease you know! It’s to meet you! I’m so glad Haruhi has a female friend, and one she can relate to in that big school too!” I blinked at the sudden change of pace but was extremely relieved. I let out a huge sigh, and smiled back.

“It’s great to meet you to! I heard all about you last night and it’s great to finally be able to put a face to the man. And such a pretty one too!” I complimented and his face lit up in a blush.

“Oh I really am beginning to like you!” He moved to the kitchen to make what I presume would be breakfast. Halfway there, however, he turned around and looked me up and down.

“Are those my pajamas?” I looked down and remembered what Haruhi told me about my little striping escapade in the middle of the night. I couldn’t really tell him that, not with how the morning started and all.

“I… well… look I have a good explanation for that too…” He simply laughed and waved it off.

“Don’t worry about it! Actually, keep them! They look better on you anyway.”

God Haruhi’s dad is the best!

* * *

As I was enjoying a delicious breakfast cooked by what must be the coolest dad ever, I got a text message from an unregistered number. 

_You are with Haruhi correct? Meet us at the school at 7._

Who the fuck…? Nope. I am not about that life. This is some horror movie level shit.

 _Who is this?_ I responded hesitantly, about three seconds from smashing this piece of shit with a hammer.

_Your fiancé_

I simultaneously breathed a sigh of relief and flipped my lid.

_Kyoya?!_

_So we **are** on to be married then? _ I could almost hear the teasing in his voice.

_Fuck off! How did you get my number? And why do we need to be there so early?_

_Just be there. Considering it’s already past 6 I suggest you get a move on. I will not tolerate lateness. Dress casually._

I rolled my eyes but relayed the message to Haruhi nonetheless. I really didn’t want to be the reason for a raise in her debt; she had already described how awful he could be.

We both decided that it was probably for the best that we show up, so we sucked it up and got ready.

Me being well, me, I took _years_ to get my shit together, though this was _partly_ due to the fact that my apartment was a fucking train wreck due to my morning rampage yesterday.

Note to Self: Clean apartment

_Reply to Note to Self: Haha yeah fucking right. “Clean apartment” my ass you can’t even do your laundry let alone clean your entire living space._

_P. Fucking S.: Call a maid or some shit because otherwise we both know that shit isn’t going to be clean anytime soon._

Eventually I found the necessities for the day’s outing (which would be God knows what) and began to perform my basic hygiene rituals when suddenly, I had myself a visitor.

“Kaeden are you almost finished yet? I’ve been waiting for almost 20 minutes now and I am considering leaving you behind. _Though that would mean being alone with the host club which is **definitely** not worth it_.” I laughed at the bit mumbled under her breath as Haruhi stumbled into my apartment, tripping over the miscellaneous articles of clothing and random bits of out-of-place furniture strewn about the place. 

I literally threw my toothbrush over my shoulder (which I’d no doubt have to look for and retrieve _again_ ), and bolted out the door, dragging Haruhi with me in my wake.

* * *

15 minutes later we rolled up to a deserted school. Well, deserted except for the host club, sitting out front in civilian wear (which is weird as shit for the record). It was also weird as shit that no one else was at school. Granted, it is an hour before school starts, but _someone’s_ usually here. 

“Why are we here so early?” questioned Haruhi.

“Well you see dear daughter,” declared Tamaki, “school has been cancelled today due to the release of many of the live test subjects to be used for dissection by the first years in biology last night.” He gave a rather pointed look in my general direction, to which I responded:

“Hey, I’m not even _in_ biology, how would I know about the cute little frogs or innocent freaking baby pigs set to be devoured by society?!” They all rolled their eyes simultaneously, almost as if they had rehearsed it. “Frankly, I am appalled you would blame such an occurrence on me. And besides, I was with Haruhi all night, just ask her.”

“Yeah it’s true. She was with me from after school until we both passed out, and I know she didn’t sneak away in the middle of the night because she woke me up at 3 a.m. when she tried to take off her clothes.” She confirmed.

“She _what_?” I heard three voices inquire shrilly.

“Oh, she was hot because she had a long onesie on, so she tried take it off. She probably forgot she wasn’t in her own–”

“I knew it! I just _knew_ it! Kaeden _is_ trying to steal away my Haruhi’s innocence and you, my dear daughter, are just idly letting her! Maybe, we need to have a talk about sexual harassment…” Tamaki thoughtfully trailed off.

“Shut up asshat, and tell us why we are all gathered here today.”

“We wanted to hang out today.” Hikaru said.

“You know, since we have the whole day to ourselves,” said Kaoru.

“Uh uh, no, no, nope, no, _no_.” announced Haruhi, “I am _not_ going on one of your crazy little “outings.” Nope. Not today, I have _things_ to do.”

“Like _what_?” asked Kaoru incredulously.

“Well, I have to go grocery shopping for dinner soon-”

“Groceries will be sent to your house, as well as a pre-made and ready to eat dinner prepared one of our _private_ chefs,” cut in Kyoya without lifting his eyes from his laptop that he had placed on the table some time after Tamaki’s fit. I made a stupid face at him because somehow that accurately conveyed my _feelings_ for the asshole.

“W-well I have homework to do and-”

“Haru-chan! You’ve had the homework for the next three weeks finished since last Tuesday!” chimed in Honey, who was currently feasting on some magical fucking cake he poofed out of fucking nowhere. Where the _flying fuck_ does he keep all that cake?

If I could poof money like he can poof cake, I could be a millionaire!

Oh wait…

I **_was_** a millionaire _one motherfucking week ago_ …

“I… I have to… umm… look guys I just-”

“She’s just _so_ busy today! She must help me clean my apartment, help me with my homework, talk about girl stuff like the gynecologist and Starbucks… she’s a busy, busy girl, so off we go!” I grabbed her arm and made to book it out of the general area.

Kyoya decided he would take one for the team and go up against me. He stepped forward, finally shut his expensive laptop filled with Kyoya secrets, and looked me in the eye triumphantly.

“Well Kaeden, I think it’s safe to say that you and Haruhi are not nearly as busy as you seem. First off, your apartment will remain a mess whether or not you clean it, as you lack an ability to retain organization. Secondly, I seriously doubt you actually do your homework despite your stellar grades. And lastly, Haruhi doesn’t know what either of those things are.”

“I _do not_ lack… She _does_ know…Hmph… Haruhi~!” I called, intent on making a point.

“What Kaeden?”

“Can you explain to me what a gynecologist does?”

“I honestly have no clue.”

“Dammit Haruhi! You’re killing me here!”

“Takashi? What’s a gynecologist?” asked Honey innocently.

“Like you _don’t_ know.” I said sarcastically.

He looked at me surprised, but I’m not sure what he was expecting. He may look 8, but the dude’s 17 going on 18, there’s _no way_ he’s as innocent as he seems.

There’s a certain amount of maturity and knowledge that comes along with his age and status, no matter how much cake he shoves down his pie-hole.

A.K.A there’s no fucking way he has to ask Silent Giant for the definition of a vagina doctor.

He knows.

And I know that he knows.

And he knows I know that he knows.

 _We_ _all_ know.

Kyoya finally stepped in to interrupt our stare down.

“As it has been declared that Haruhi has no plans today, she will accompany us on our outing.”

“…Fine. But Kaeden is coming with us.” Uhh… wait what? No Haruhi don’t throw me under the bus like this!

“That was implied.” Kyoya responded. I groaned, along with the rest of the host club.

“But why does _she_ have to come along?” whined Kaoru. I perked up, as I realized this was my chance to annoy the shit out of everyone. I could _really_ fuck with people today. And for _free_!

“For a number of reasons my good sir,” I answered with a renewed sense of purpose, “moral support, entertainment, and an occasional reminder that we live in a land called ‘reality.’”

“We don’t want _you_ to come. _We_ don’t like you.” Declared Hikaru brashly.

“Welcome to the fucking club, asshole.” I snarked back.

“Guys stop fighting! Give me a second to call my dad so he doesn’t worry.”

“That’s already been taken care of.” Advised you-know-who.

“Okay then give me a second to lecture Kaeden about public behavior.” She obviously just wanted a second alone from the gang. He stared at her for a second, before nodding slowly.

“That’s acceptable, but you _will_ be held accountable for her behavior today.” She nodded while rolling her eyes and pulled me off to the side.

“I don’t think I have the patience for this today. They can be such _pains_!” she said while rubbing her temple.

“Yeah they are fucking pains…” I muttered. I mean yes this is a chance for some of my famous fuckery, and I don’t want to ditch Haruhi, but _why the fuck_ was I invited? Not that I’m complaining, but it’s pretty obvious that the disdain between me and like two-thirds of the host club is mutual.

“You have to be on your best behavior today, alright? Please?”

“Ugh _fine._ ”

“Promise me.”

“I promise.” I had my fingers crossed, but she didn’t need to know that. I wouldn’t do something crazy outrageous, just chaotic neutral stuff. Nothing too bad.

“Good. Now we better get a move on before Tamaki comes over here sobbing about something or the other.”

One way or another this was probably the best entertainment I was going to get for a while.

 


	10. Chapter 10

As we returned to the group, Kyoya snapped shut his notebook and turned towards us.

“Good, you’ve returned. I was worried we would have to drag you over here. We need to get moving if we are going to avoid traffic.”

“Traffic?” Haruhi asked, “Where are we going?”

“Amusement park!” the twins shouted simultaneously. Simultaneously _in my ear_. They will pay.

My brief annoyance with the ginger haired idiots was quickly overridden with excitement. Amusement park? I hadn’t been to one of those in forever!

The last time I went to one some dumbass kid left his iPod in his pocket when he got on one of those upside-down rollercoaster awesomeness rides. It was all shits and giggles for everyone until it ended up _catapulting_ out of his pocket and into my head as I waited in line.

Gravity, thou art a cold heartless bitch, and child who owned the iPod, thou art an illiterate fuck for not reading the “What **_NOT_** to Bring On the Ride” signs.

Yeah, it really is all fun and games at the carnival until some one has to go to the hospital with a fractured skull, a concussion, and a need for stitches due to a flying Apple device, isn’t it?

As we all piled into the limo, I found myself hopelessly stuck next to Kyoya, which was _awful_ , but I didn’t have it nearly as bad as Haruhi, who was seated between the twins, who, I easily discovered, were feeling _extra_ mischievous then, as they decided to try and initiate their “brotherly-love-give-me-attention-bullshit” act with her in between them.

It went something along the lines of:

“Oh Hikaru, a trip to the amusement park is going to be so fun! Will you be my ride buddy?” Kaoru asked sweetly as he leaned over (essentially _on top of_ ) her to get closer to his brother

“Why of course Kaoru,” he said, holding his twin's face _way_ too close to his for an “innocent” gesture, “but only if you promise to go on the Ferris wheel with me.” His voice dropped into a whisper that was still loud enough for everyone in the vehicle to hear as he leaned _even closer_ towards Kaoru, “I hear it’s really romantic.”

I swore I could see sparkles and roses spouting from the air around them and that’s when Haruhi decided that she’d had enough.

“Get off of me you two!” She yelled from in between them, snapping them out of whatever hormonal, incestual, strange little moment they were having. Without returning her personal space to her, they turned to face Haruhi.

“What can we help you with?” Kaoru asked as they put their heads together and leaned towards her, “Do you like what you see?” Hikaru finished with a wink.

“Yeah it was _great_ ,” She retorted, voice dripping with sarcasm. “No but seriously, please move. Now.” They slouched back to their seats, pouting. 

I threw Haruhi an apologetic look but she only had enough time to return to me an “officially-done-with-this-shit” one as Tamaki enveloped her in a hug spewing some nonsensical bullshit about the “evil devil twins.”

However, at this point it was seeming less “nonsensical” and “bullshit” and more “frighteningly accurate” as they attempted (and sorely failed, mind you) to maneuver her into their laps.

It was going to be a _long_ ride.

* * *

We _finally_ arrived at the amusement park after a rather trying ride, and as I emerged from the back of the hot limo I collapsed to the ground and begin kissing the pavement.

“Thank you, whatever Gods there may be, for delivering me from the evil that is host club transportation!” I yelled earnestly to the sky, not a trace of sarcasm or joking in my voice.

During the ride I had witnessed: Honey eating four and a quarter cakes (fucking midget from space), Hikaru and Kaoru finding sixteen different pet names for Haruhi, and Tamaki putting himself in the emo corner twelve times. And a partridge in a pear tree.

How one can even _find_ an emo corner in a _fucking limo_ , I have no idea. But that’s Tamaki for you.

The host club brushed past my little episode towards the front gates (all of them save Haruhi, for she pulled me off the ground and told me to be mature because sure as hell no one else was going to be. Apparently “rich bastards” and “maturity” aren’t to be used in the same sentence unless the words “do not have” are in between them.)

Also apparently, Kyoya’s family owned this particular park as a “relaxation center.”

Now, as much as I love amusement parks, I think I can safely say that I don’t find riding rollercoasters and being chased by clowns “relaxing. ”

Nonetheless, it meant we got in for free, so fuck the technicalities because today was going to be _hella_ rad.

Haruhi and I stayed quiet while the host club began to argue over where to head first.

Tamaki wanted to check out some sort of pageant they were holding, no doubt to enter Haruhi in it; I’m pretty sure I could _feel_ the waves of disgust rolling off of her at the thought.

Honey wanted to hit up the concession stands and enter himself in the pie-eating contest. _Shocker_. Mori would obviously tag along anywhere the weirdo went to supervise.

The twins wanted to check out some of the rides there. And by “rides” I mean the terrifying, upside-down, gravity-and-logic-defying rollercoasters. And I’m pretty sure they wanted Haruhi between them _at all times_.

And Kyoya? Well, all the O-man wanted was someplace quiet he could _work_. Bucket of fun, isn’t he?

While the group was pointlessly arguing, Haruhi and I slipped off to explore the place. God knows we wouldn’t get a chance to once the idiots made up their minds.

I challenged her in a bunch of carnival games and we both ended up winning half a dozen stuffed animals. Despite my experience in the world of all things baseball, Haruhi beat me at knocking down milk bottles by a mile.

The girl had a cannon!

I forced her to stop for ice cream, and when she threw me a look I simply responded with, “Ice cream fixes everything. Even if it’s a day in public with the host club.”

After our games, we ended up finding a spot atop a hill that overlooked the rest of the park and was pretty well hidden. We sat down on the bench stationed there and relaxed in silence, enjoying the view.

It had been almost an hour since we had ditched the Host Club and I was surprised they hadn’t caught up to us yet. Not that I was complaining or anything; the last hour had been heaven on Earth compared to what I am sure the rest of the day would be like.

“You know, on days like this when the club drags me out on some insane adventure, I never get moments to myself. I don’t think they realize that I’d enjoy some personal space every once in a while.” I giggled at her comment.

“Well, Tamaki is French. To him, ‘personal space’ is anything that still involves clothing. As for the twins, I’m pretty sure someone decided, ‘Hey, let’s make a teenage boy with three times regular hormone levels; then let’s clone him.’ Honey is basically an eight-year-old and Mori does whatever the hell the hobbit does. And Kyoya? All I can say is that if the sin greed were a bonefide human, he’s probably it. Welcome to the host club; personal space _not_ included.” I winked at her scowl.

“None of that is true, they just always need to be the center of attention.”

“Oh ho ho, so you’re telling me that Tamaki _does_ have an accurate perception of personal space?”

“Well, no but-”

“Are you saying that the twins _aren’t_ overly hormonal teenage boys?”

“That may be true but-”

“So you’re implying that Honey _doesn’t_ act like a child at times and that Mori _wouldn’t_ follow him to the ends of the Earth?”

“Arguably-”

“And can you honestly tell me the Kyoya _doesn’t_ attempt to raise your debt in extreme situations such as ‘wasting time’ on a _daily basis_?” I mean, not anymore but she doesn’t need to know that.

“Ok, alright, fine! You win! Are you happy?” She threw her hands up in defeat.

“Yes, I am indeed quite content.” I beamed at her pouty face as she turned away from me to watch some rather interesting _nothing_ in the trees behind us.

We sat in comfortable silence for the next ten minutes or so, enjoying the peace and quiet. I’d never taken time to sit and reflect on the week’s occurrences. So much had happened, it was almost mind blowing.

Last Thursday morning, I had been a millionaire. That same night, I had been disowned and became effectively homeless.

Friday I flew to Japan alone and I had officially been accepted into Ouran.

And over the weekend I got a new home.

And Monday, I made my first friend and four enemies (I don’t count Honey and Mori as enemies, they’re more of a neutral, like Switzerland).

It was crazy how much had happened, how drastically my life had changed in such a short amount of time. I guess I had just been so busy I hadn’t had any time to reflect on it.

As I mulled this over, I became curious about my earlier realization.

“We ditched the host club like half an hour - no, more than that - at least an hour ago. Where are they? You think they would have found us by now.” It didn’t take long to get my answer.

I quickly realized that Haruhi and I were no longer alone. I could hear faint whispering from somewhere behind us, but when I turned around, no one was in sight.

Odd.

I was about to face forward again when Haruhi nudged me wordlessly. I threw her a questioning look before I followed her eyes upwards.

There, in the trees, sat the host club.

They were sitting

In the _fucking_ _trees_.

They were all huddled (or trying to huddle, as they were in a fucking tree; it’s sort of difficult to huddle when in that situation) and vehemently discussing something. No doubt how to execute whatever “genius” plan Tamaki cooked up.

I had absolutely no words as I witnessed this. None.

Well, actually, I did have a few that I leaned over to Haruhi to whisper. I put on my best Steve Irwin Australian accent and began my monologue.

“Now, here we have a rather rare occurrence: the gathering of the _Hostus Clubeous_. You see, they are very rarely found in the wild beyond their extensive and lavish habitats, so it truly is a treat what we are witnessing. As you can see, there are many different species in the _Hostus Clubeous._

 _“_ First we have the _Tamikeri Suohpoda_ the leader of the pack. Its melodramatic nature and severe lack of a filter (or common sense for that matter) makes it a very entertaining creature to study, but never to interact with.” I looked over to see Haruhi sporting a large grin at my antics.

“Next we have the _Hitachiodea Twinacus_ , which are always found in pairs. Every creature is identical to the other, though there are measurable differences in the two despite their identical sex drive and annoying nature.

“Another creature found here is the _Mitskunoptera Haninostoma_ an organism with a cute and youthful appearance and an insatiable need for sugar. Along with its ever faithful and ever silent giant side-kick, _Takalatus Morinostoma,_ the _Mitskunoptera Haninostoma_ wanders through the wilderness searching for cake and its adorable best friend, the _Usoria-chanea_ , a small rabbit like creature.

“Lastly, we have the _Kyoridae Ootoricanus,_ one of the most vicious creatures found in nature. Its persistent need for success and profit far outweighs its moral capabilities and many competitors have known its sly and cunning nature as their downfalls. This internal beast is masked by a stunning façade, but once revealed, many do not live to see another day. Especially if you are an innocent _Harulonga Fujiokensis_ , and you have just broken a very expensive vase.”

As I finished my pointless and silly speech in an even sillier accent, Haruhi broke into uncontrollable laughter that she had been holding in for the entire spiel. It was then that it came to my attention that the entire host club actually was not in the tree and that there was indeed one person missing.

I faced forward again to find a smirking _Kyoridae Ootoricanus_ watching me.

“’Stunning façade?’ I’m flattered, honestly, my dearest _Kaedius Halemus_.” Huh. So he does have a sense of humor. The rest host club climbed (fell) out of the tree and joined the rest of us normal people (minus Kyoya) on the ground.

“Well, now that we’ve found you and that delinquent, we can continue our day without interruption!” a rather excited Tamaki announced.

Both of us let out simultaneous groans as we were dragged along through the park to cater to the hosts’ every whim.

We had to witness Honey utterly _destroy_ everyone in a pie eating contest. It was terrifying to watch and after it was through Honey had won by eating 127 pies in 10 minutes, which was almost 13 pies a minute. Kid’s a machine.

It was even more terrifying when, after the contest, he skipped up to Mori and sweetly asked for some strawberry cake to get the taste of the rather cut-rate apple pie out of his mouth.

As if he _hadn’t_ already eaten enough.

Then we were dragged to a rollercoaster that worked entirely based off of physics and gravity at the insistence of the twins. No engines, no controls, no nothing. Which was almost as terrifying (though immeasurably more fun) than witnessing the midget’s inhuman display of talent, though I do distinctly remember Haruhi being a bit green and queasy at the end of both.

We _then_ involuntarily watched as Tamaki _attempted_ to force Haruhi into the pageant. He got as far as putting her into a dress, (which she nearly shredded) before he was abruptly stopped by some passing _Ouran girls_ who asked why Haruhi, a **_boy_** , was wearing a dress. Kyoya saved the day by bullshitting some story about how Haruhi wanted to feel closer to the customers by putting himself into their shoes. _Literally_.  

I then proceeded to laugh at how terribly fabricated that lie was for the next 300 years. You could've just said that he likes wearing dresses, I'm sure they wouldn't've cared either way. Dumbass.

Before long it was demanded that we do something relaxing by our “ _savior_.” We decided that something good and relaxing was a ride on the Ferris Wheel.

As we made our way over to the flashing lights signifying our destination, I was hastily pulled aside by someone.

Kyoya?

“What do _you_ want?”

“Are you having fun?”

“What?”

“I asked if you are having fun.”

“Why?” I asked slowly, both shocked and confused at the lack of bite to his words. 

“You’re having a good time here right? The hosts may annoy you, but you’re still enjoying yourself.”

“I’m not following. What are you getting at?”

“I wasn’t lying when I said your presence in the host club was profitable. And you’re enjoying the day out with us. So join us. Be a host.” I stared at him for a moment in shocked silence, but I honest to god couldn’t help but laugh right in his face. 

“You want _me_ …to be a _host_? You must be joking! What are you on? I would never join your fucking three ring circus.”

“You could be an ally for Haruhi.”

“Don’t you pull Haruhi into this. This is between you and me. And I’m not going to let you exploit me for more money. Hell to the fucking _no_.” And with that I shoved past him to join the host club at the line for the Ferris Wheel.

Despite protests from Tamaki and the twins, Haruhi and I (plus our many new stuffed animal friends we had won) locked ourselves in one of the open-aired passenger cars and enjoyed the slow, peaceful _, host club free_ , ascent to the top.

Despite the craziness of the day and Kyoya’s bullshit, I think I can safely say I actually did have a good time. The host club is definitely an efficient source of entertainment, that much is _certain_.

We abruptly stopped as we reached the peak of the ride, and as I looked down towards the controls, I realized Tamaki was in a heated debate with the worker controlling the ride.

Haruhi leaned over and witnessed the spectacle as well before leaning back and sighing. “I knew that this peace and serenity would be short lived.” I silently agreed with her, and as I leaned over to once again watch the blonde’s temper tantrum over _god knows what_ , I noticed something very peculiar.

Just one car below us sat a very serious, very businessy, very _pissy_ Kyoya Ootori who was diligently working on his laptop. Man, down one business venture off to another, huh? We get one day off and he’s _still_ working.

As my on going campaign to piss him off was still running, I used this opportunity to further my plan. It was then that my eyes light up as I thought of the perfect way to throw him off.

“Yo! Kyoya!” I yelled.

The boy in question sighed as he readjusted his glasses and glared up at me.

“Yes? Have you reevaluated you decision?”

“Nope!” I grabbed one of the stuffed animals I had won earlier and launched it at the boy below me; it hit him right between the eyes. 

“Kaeden what is the meaning of this!” He stood and began to furiously (yet calmly, which made it all the more terrifying) demand in my direction.

“Well you asked me if I’m having fun…” I threw another stuffed animal at him, this time landing at his feet. “And yeah. This _is_ fun!”

“You better cease your foolishness unless you would like a lesson in manners. You _don’t_ want to mess with an Ootori.” He threatened.

“Oh sorry _hun_ , am I pissing you off?” I nonchalantly stated, “I thought we were supposed to be _married_.” I chucked another victim over the side of my car to the one below me. “ _Lover’s quarrel_ , is this?” This one had a perfect aim and hit Kyoya in the shoulder hard, causing him to lose his balance and fall into the side of the car. He caught himself, but not without losing something of equal importance to his life.

We helplessly watched as his prized laptop tumbled down to the ground from almost ten stories up.

The load noise of the laptop meeting pavement distracted Tamaki long enough for the operator to get us moving again, but before I shakily sat back down in my seat, I witnessed a rather pissed son of one of the most powerful corporations in the world vow his inevitable revenge.

I was in **_big_** trouble.


	11. Chapter 11

I looked tentatively upward to peer at the bottom of the car just above us that held a positively fuming host. I heard my ride buddy clear her throat and I returned my gaze to the girl sitting across from me with a rather disgruntled look marring her features.

“Why are you mad? It’s not like you were the one that broke his stupid laptop.”

“Kaeden,” she groaned, “I don’t think you understand what you just did.”

“I broke the idiot’s laptop. Granted, it wasn’t on purpose, but it’s not like that was a terrible outcome on my end either.” I let myself seem more confident and nonchalant than I was feeling in that moment. I think I could physically _see_ the dark aura radiating off the car above us, and despite my leap-without-looking bold attitude, I was honestly slightly intimidated.

Scratch that. I was _incredibly_ intimidated.

“Kaeden, I was almost quite literally _pushed_ into a vase and it wasn’t even really anyone’s fault _(unless that ‘anyone’ is Tamaki and those damned twins)_ ,” she muttered under her breath, quickly returning to the conversation, “but I’m still being made to pay all _eight million_ of it off. Although the laptop is _probably_ not as expensive as an antique vase, it’s Kyoya’s and something he obviously holds some sort of attachment too. Plus it’s exceedingly obvious that he already _strongly_ dislikes you.”

“But-”

“And furthermore, it’s not like it was an _accident_ his laptop broke; you messed with him and used him as a target for your stuffed animal target practice, resulting in it being _thrown_ from the _top_ of the _Ferris Wheel_.” I sighed in defeat while she continued. “That laptop is not broken Kaeden; it’s _annihilated_!”

“Yes, thank you Haruhi for depicting just what condition my laptop is in right now,” a _slightly_ (very) irritated voice yelled from the car above us. Simultaneously our eyes widened and our mouths audibly snapped shut at the thought of him hearing our entire conversation.

Please God, Jesus, _anyone_ , let Tamaki go back to arguing with that damn operator so I never have to leave the safety of this ride.

To my utter despair, the ride was over just moments later and we clambered off onto the loading platform. Even from here I could see the shattered metallic remains of my Ferris Wheel misadventure.

I cringed at the thought of my oncoming punishment. Like, I definitely am gonna get kicked from the park permanently, that’s a no brainer. 10/10 should not throw things from the top of the Ferris Wheel. But what about Kyoya’s personal wrath? What was going to happen to me? I hadn’t even talked to Tyler or his family since I’d left; maybe, if Ootori was feeling generous, (which I seriously doubt) he’d let me call them to say goodbye before he kills me. But how would I die?

Would he throw me off a bridge with a bunch of cinderblocks tied to my ankles? No, that’s how the mafia does it, but what about rich kids? They’d hire an assassin to make it look like an accident.

Guess who’s never leaving the house again and is going to sleep with a shotgun?

If you guessed me then you’re right and I await death with a loaded double barrel.

As Kyoya stepped off the car, I braced myself for whatever would happen next. Perhaps some good strong verbal abuse, a slap or two probably wouldn’t be out of line, but instead he brushed right past me without saying a single word.

Not

One

Fucking

Word.

And _that_ was the most terrifying of all the scenarios I had imagined.

Just what was he plotting?

* * *

The rest of the club sensed the tension and unease within the group and decided to go home instead of sticking around any longer. 

I nearly opted to walk home rather than be crammed into a limousine with two pervs, an alien, a giant, an idiot, and someone who is most likely planning my imminent death, but I was given no other choice when the only normal person I knew in this god damn country reminded me that we were an half hour drive from our apartment complex, and that was by highway.

The limo was crammed. The limo was stuffy. The limo was awkwardly dead silent.

In conclusion, the ride home was nearly twice as long and suffocating as the one here. And _that’s_ saying something.

Haruhi and I were dropped off first much to my relief, and as I made some mad haste to get out of the cramped limo I decided it would be best to book it up to my apartment, lock the doors, and bar the windows rather than sit around and risk bodily harm.

My “new life” officially started only yesterday and I’m already anticipating my death.

Oh joy.

* * *

The next morning as I walked to school with Haruhi, I had dark circles under my eyes and was about ready to embrace death with open arms at this point. 

I had come to a few realizations, one of which was that I thankfully wasn’t dead. Yet. (I definitely didn’t wait up all night to see if I would actually be killed. Nope. Didn’t happen at all.)

I also realized that I was in some serious shit. I had spent the entire night (other than waiting for death), waging an internal battle. To be sorry or not to be sorry.

I wavered back and forth all night, and right about now, as I was heading head on into the fucking nightmare, I was feeling pretty sorry.

Sorry for me, sorry for him, sorry for his laptop sitting in pieces in the bottom of a trashcan in an amusement park. Sorry in general.

But a part of me still felt entirely justified in what could probably be considered my revenge plot.

Laptops are replaceable, relationships are not. And Kyoya is a mean motherfucker who needs to be taught a lesson about how people should be treated.

I don’t know man, but if a hitman decided that right now was the time to target me, I’d be A-Ok with it because then at least I wouldn’t have to face the day. Or Kyoya.

“You alright?” Haruhi asked me worriedly. It was no secret that I was worn out.

“Nope.” I said popping the P.

“Yeah, I don’t blame you. Do you know what you’re going to say to him when you see him today?”

“I don’t know? Sorry I was a dick? Sorry you’re a dick? Sorry you’re dickishness brought out my dickishness and resulted in a broken laptop?”

“That doesn’t sound _quite_ right.”

“Yeah yeah I know. I have no fucking clue. I mean I feel bad but not really? He’s kind of rich as fuck so he can just buy a new one but I do realize I was messing with him when all he wanted was peace and quiet but also he’s an ass?” Here we go again.

“That’s a tough place to be in Kaeden. But you got yourself in, I bet you can get yourself out,” I wasn’t nearly as confident in my skills as she was, “why don’t you start with an apology though.” I groaned, despite my gut feeling telling me that was probably best.

I did not want to give up _anything_ to that shitwad, but I kind of forfeited my ability to steer clear of that when I decided to be an impulsive dick yesterday, huh?

Fuck my lifeeee…

* * *

I watched the joyous canary marshmallows excitedly bounce around the entrance hall (which was the size of our entire damn _apartment complex_ thank you very much) as they reunited with friends after the _agonizing_ day of separation. 

I winced at the high-pitched squeals emanating from every direction and was immediately reminded of the host club.

“Hey, you don’t mind if I don’t show up to the host club today right?”

“Not at all. I honestly didn’t expect you to come back after yesterday’s shenanigans.”

“Yeah, I think it’d be best if I lie low for a while.” She half-smiled at my statement and commented something quietly that faintly sounded like “ _You’ve got that right_.” I chuckled at her response.

“I don’t know how you stand it there, but I’ll walk home with you again for sure!”

“You really don’t have to, I don’t want to delay you or anything or force you to deal with anymore of this pointless drama than you already do. Although, I did hear that you punched a kid on Monday. Is that true?”

I sheepishly gave Haruhi my best I’m-sorry-but-not-really grin. “It might be.”

“Always with the violence.” She sighed exasperatedly and as the bell rang we parted ways to go to class, promising to meet out front by the pond after the club.

* * *

My first classes went by quickly without an issue, and, surprisingly, Honey was completely quiet and focused on the lecture the teacher was giving on superlatives. 

Seeing as I basically had this language down to a “T” (I say tentatively against my 47% quiz test grade), I took the day off from learning in that class (as I will probably do everyday) and instead opened up my trusty notebook.

It felt like forever since I had cracked it open, but in reality it hadn’t been as long as I’d thought it’d been. If you leave out last night when I was writing my (very short) last will and testament in it, the last time I’d seen it was on the plane ride over on Friday.

I’d never really let anyone see inside my notebook, but it’s not like I write all of my secrets in there or anything. It’s a notebook not a fucking diary.

I turned to a new page and sighed as I titled the top of it “Kaeden’s Fuck-ups vs. Kyoya’s Fuck-ups” and divided the page into two columns. I began by writing “Dick at fair – broke laptop” on my side and “Dick forever – broke family” on his. I thought that making a list would help me sort out my feelings, but staring down at the nearly empty page just made me more confused and less likely to regain hope for living.

I frustrated closed the book and put my head down on my desk, resigned to recover some of the sleep I lost last night.

As the bell rang, releasing us, I quickly groaned as I realized just where I was heading:

_Class 2A – Math, European History, and a whole slew of other bullshit._

Which, if that’s not tough enough, I had to endure the entire period in front of Blondie and Glasses. Maybe Glasses got amnesia and forgot all about yesterday; maybe (hopefully!) he forgot about me altogether.

One can only dream.

Now that I understood just what (who) the girls in my second year class were always swarming and ogling before class, I opted to instead talk with a few of my penis (and brain) bearing classmates that I recognized from P.E.

The conversation was mostly centered on how I knocked out Akira and then subsequently pummeled him into the ground during football, which _was_ pretty awesome if I do say so myself.

They all made it abundantly clear that they didn’t share his stupid sexist views and that I was welcomed in class.

On the other hand, _I_ made it abundantly clear that I was going to make him pay at every given opportunity and that they’d better help or stay out of my way unless they wanted to lose an eye.

I’m not sure if they sided with me out of fear or respect. Nonetheless when it comes to revenge, how your allies came to be is a rather insignificant detail.

If only I could punch the rest of my problems in the face and have it turn out this okay.

As class came to a dragging start, I lumbered over to my chair at the forefront of the classroom, despising my teacher in that moment for his poor seating arrangement system. I plopped down in my chair and contemplated how to spend my class time.

I _could_ pay attention today (Lord knows I need it; European History is almost a foreign language to me when it’s _literally_ in a foreign language)

**_Or_ **

I _could_ listen to sad Elliot Smith songs until I died, forever putting off confrontation.

I weighed my options and decided that I could brush up on European History at a later time. And by “brush up” I mean I could binge watch Hetalia at three a.m. because that’s _totally_ historically accurate, right?

It seemed like a sound plan to me.

As I pulled out my phone to begin my unhealthy procrastination ritual, and light tap on my shoulder distracted me. I twisted around quickly and prayed that it wasn’t who I though it was.

To my surprise, it wasn’t.

“Something you needed?” I asked Tamaki. Without a word he slipped something out of his pocket and gave it to me. Kyoya looked up from his class notes to watch the exchange, his curious but emotionless gaze quickly dissipating into a withering glare that matched the cold stare I gave back.

It was a folded piece of notebook paper. I gave Tamaki a confused look and quickly opened it to reveal a note.

_What happened yesterday? Kyoya seemed uncharacteristically angry yesterday at the park. –Tamaki_

I shot the blonde a look of sheer exhaustion. I did _not_ want to do this right now, and my annoyance at having been forced into thinking about the situation showed.

_Kyoya? Angry? Shocking. Basically, shit hit the fan Kyoya dropped his laptop off the side of the Ferris Wheel._

_I don’t know if you were too busy in Idiot Town to see the thing smash into the pavement ten feet from your face or what not._

He threw me a look of surprise as he replied to my answer.

 _That was rude._  

I rubbed my eyes and groaned before writing my response.

_You’re right; it was and I meant it to be. You and I aren’t friends, and I’m extra not in a good mood. I don’t want to deal with this right now._

He looked at me, crestfallen, crocodile tears leaking from his puppy dog eyes. I rolled my eyes and wrote another note following the first one.

_Okay you’re right whatever. I’m sorry._

He seemed to accept my apology and continued passing me notes.

_Why did you do to make “stuff hit the fan?”_

I let out a small smile at his censorship. A prince through and through.

 _Well… Kyoya dropped his laptop because I was pelting him with stuffed animals. I shouldn’t have been throwing things at him, he shouldn’t have been_   _standing up or being rude to me, and he probably shouldn’t have brought something that valuable to an amusement park. It takes two to tango etc. etc._

I flicked the triangularly folded paper back at Tamaki. He read my answer before penning his response in neat cursive. 

_Well, are you going to apologize to him? It seems like the right thing to do. Even though you’re poor and cannot afford such luxuries as a laptop, you can_ _afford sincerity._

I read and reread his response before putting my head down on the table to think.

_Kay… thanks for the shot on my socio-economic class. Really makes me want to apologize._

He grimaced and mouthed ‘sorry.’

 _And here’s my problem. I don’t know what to do. I feel bad, but not really. I get that I haven’t been the nicest to everyone, and I do apologize for that I_   _guess. I don’t mean to be a rude fucking bitch all the time, but he and I go back, and we don’t have the prettiest backstory. He kind of high-key ruined my_ _life. I feel pretty entitled to ruining his laptop._

This time I formed a paper airplane and aimed it at his chest. He scanned it before starting his own reply. 

 _An eye for an eye makes the world go blind._

_Ugh_ , he wants me to be the bigger person here, doesn’t he? I have four months of rent before I’m broke and he’s a multi-millionaire, why should _I_ have to be the bigger person?

I’m petty! I don’t _do_ this bigger person shit!

And when the hell did he get so contemplative and mature? Every bit of Tamaki I’d witnessed so far was childish and overdramatic, and had about as much logic as a car without seatbelts.

I unconsciously began to clutch the paper so tightly it began it tear.

He ruined my life, isn’t this just payback? Besides it’s just a laptop, get over it. He has enough money to buy an entire warehouse full of them! He deserves every bit of what he got!

I turned to say this to Tamaki, but the look he gave me made me stop. It was like that look that parents give their kids when they’re “not angry. Just disappointed.”

Honestly, it broke my heart a little bit. This isn’t who I want to be. I’m not a mean person, just a stubborn girl with bad company I guess. I just want to put this all behind me. Be done with it.

I sighed. Dammit. I hate being moral.

After a rather prolonged silence, Tamaki was surprised to see a new note on his desk (I had accidentally crumpled the old one). His eyes visibly widened as he read my response:

_…You got me. I’ll apologize. To everyone. I was wrong, yada yada, I’m sorry for being childish, yada yada, the whole bit. My attitude towards Kyoya, and the_ _host club in general was uncalled for. What I did was wrong and I’ll do what I can to right it. Happy?_

He looked up at me and nodded, beaming. I received his next note in a matter of seconds.

 _Thank you. I think that’s for the best._

I turned around to ask when the hell he got so serious and mature, but was met instead with him sticking two pencils under his upper lip to resemble a walrus and a disassembled pen on his desk, the ink cartridge visible on the floor across the room.

There goes my praise, right out the window, just like my hope for the future of humanity with kids like this in charge.

I turned back around and stared out said window where both praise and hope escaped out through and contemplated just how in the world I would approach a still red-hot pissed Kyoya.

Good thing I still had another 15 minutes of not learning in Euro to think up something good.       

Fan-fucking-tastic.

 


	12. Chapter 12

The bell rang signaling the end of the class period and the beginning of a short break and I took a deep breath in preparation for what I was about to do. I twisted around in my seat and faced Kyoya, letting all of my words out in a nervous rush.

“Heycanwetalkafterclassit’skindofimportant.” I turned red with embarrassment at my inability to coherently string together a sentence, but I had never attempted anything close to what I was about to do.

Without looking up from his notebook he silently nodded. He hadn’t spoken a word to me since yesterday. As I sat on top of my desk and watched the last few stragglers and finally the teacher make their way out of the classroom, I turned back to Kyoya to find him intently watching me from his position leaning against the desk behind him.

“There was something you wanted to talk about?” he asked coolly. As if it _weren’t_ about his fucking laptop. _Lmao I wish._

I took another deep breath to ease my nerves before starting another sentence, this one thankfully slower and much more coherent than the last one.

“Yes. I…I just wanted to apologize for yesterday.” I said in a weak voice. I was never really good at apologizing, but at least the worst of it was out of the way, right?

“So yeah. Um… I was rude to you and I didn’t really have a reason to be. But I do want to, you know, make things right, so is there anything I can do?” I was not happy about it, but that was probably the best I could do, so I shut my mouth and waited for a response.

Kyoya didn’t say anything, he only watched me with an emotionless mask that gave away nothing of what he was thinking. The boy was definitely an enigma to say the least.

Quickly, though, his façade melted away into a triumphant smirk, and while a slight burning pooled in my stomach, I forced it down because I was in the middle of fixing one of my fuck ups and it was not the time to be defending honor.

“I knew you’d give in and come around sooner or later.” He eyed me victoriously. “Obviously sooner rather than later, as your willpower didn’t last long against your misplaced sense of morality now did it?”

Oh, _god forbid_ I have morals. _Fuck me_ , right?

“Honestly, I did set low expectations for you but you still seemed to underperform.” I was nearly shaking with anger. _Now_ I remember why I was a bitch to him.

Breathe Kaeden. In through the nose, out through the mouth. Impulsiveness is what got you in trouble last time.

“Nonetheless, you still ‘ _annihilated,_ ‘ as Haruhi so eloquently put it, something of mine that not only held important documents, spreadsheets, and contacts for the Ootori company but also is where all of the host club information is stored, including the budgets, inventory, and customer lists.” I hung my head. Why do all of my revenge plans seem to end it _something_ important getting wrecked?

“Sorry…” I mumbled, wanting to leave the classroom as soon as possible. Despite the fact it was nearly twice the size of my tiny apartment, it felt suffocating.

“’Sorry’ is not going to cut it. Not only was that the finest piece of technology money can buy, it held priceless information that could have been permanently lost, causing both the host club and my family’s company an enormous loss of income if I hadn’t retained a backup.”

“Jesus, I get it! I fucked up! I said I was sorry! Like you said, nothing was lost anyways. What else do you want? I can’t buy you a new laptop!” I exclaimed, exasperated.

“Can’t you?” He smirked.

“What the fuck are you talking about of course I can’t-” And then it hit me. Like a fucking truck. “No. No no no no no no no, a thousand times no.”

“Unfortunately you lost the ability to say no the minute you decided to be an absolute moron. You _are_ going to pay it all back.”

“Are you kidding? I said it once I’ll say it again, no way in hell am I going to be apart of your fucked up club. No way in Heaven, Earth, Hell, the Internet, or space. No.” I profusely refused his outrageous mandate. I got myself in a world of trouble _week one_ of hanging with the host club; one can only _imagine_ how much trouble I’ll get in working for them.

“Oh but I am being very much serious, and you don’t have much of a choice. How do you expect to pay 2 million yen? I hate to inform you of this, but you no longer live a life of luxury Kaeden; you can barely afford rent and food.”

I lost all color in my face as I attempt to do the conversion to U.S. dollars. 2 million yen? That was almost…

“You own a 20 thousand dollar laptop?” I asked in a small voice.

“The laptop itself plus all of the information stored on it is worth well above 20 thousand dollars, but I’m giving you a friends and family discount. And well, it _was worth_ that much, as in past tense because you destroyed it,” he threw me a pointed look.

I groaned loudly, not at all concerned with Kyoya’s presence anymore. It hadn’t even mattered if I’d taken the high road, if I’d apologized, I’d still be stuck with this debt. He just wanted me to give in, to claim him the victor. And it pissed me off to no end that I was played in such a way. But I had no time to think of my irritation when I was faced with my crushing bill.

“I’ll have to work everyday for the rest of my life until I die, and then for decade after I die to pay off all of that.”

“Most likely,” Kyoya agreed mockingly.

I contemplated my situation.

I could run. That’s a _very_ real possibility. I’d already done it once with my dumbass father, Alexander.

“I don’t suggest trying to escape. The Ootori’s employ a private police force of 100 trained officers. I mean, you could attempt running, but there’s no way you’ll make it out of the city.”

If it were anyone else I would’ve called bullshit; not with the Ootori boy. At that point I didn’t even question how he could practically _read_ my fucking mind. I’m pretty sure he’s some sort of magical creature like a vampire or a troll or something stupid.

He’s probably a motherfucking faerie. Stealing kids n’ shit.

I considered my other options.

I could try to work it off _without_ joining the host club, you know, with the job that I _don’t_ currently have. Maybe I could become a prostitute. Yeah, there we go, now we have some good brainstorming here. Being a prostitute could _definitely_ work Or a stripper. They make _bank_.

“I shouldn’t even _have_ to explain to you why that isn’t a good idea.”

“How did you-?”

“Have you decided on just how you are going to pay me this large sum of money yet?”

No running. No prostitution. No stripping. That left me with only one option.

“Fine. I’ll be apart of your dumbass club,” I groaned in frustration. At least he didn’t ask me to marry him again.

“Great. See you at three.”

I glared at him for a few seconds before throwing my hands in the air in defeat.

* * *

I completely skipped the rest of my classes in 2A, my “therapy session,” and P.E. and spent lunch on the roof again. It was really nice up there to be completely honest. For a bunch of rich bastards, they spend their money well. _Usually_. 

In the case of the grounds of Ouran Academy, the place was gorgeous. And the best part was the perfect view I had from my vantage. You could get lost in the landscape, waste away hours just sitting and watching. From what I could see, hear, feel, there was no debt, no stupid host club that I was now a part of, no difference between a commoner and an elite. There were only the trees and the birds and the wind.

And the god damned bell.

I clambered down the fire escape and made my way to my next class. My day was nearly over; I could take another hour or two.

Plus however many I was stuck at the _stupid fucking club_.

Walking into class, I noticed that the twin idiots were split up. Only one remained while Haruhi sat with her head down on the desk. I took my seat behind the trio of desks and tapped on the little devil’s shoulder.

“Yo, Clone Dos. Dondé está Clone Uno?”

“What?”

“Where’s your brother dumbass?”

“He went to the bathroom.” He said in a matter-of-fact tone. “Why do you care?” I rolled my eyes.

“Hey Hikaru? Take that sass? Put it in your pocket. I hear from the passing crowd that you and Kaoru are usually _inseparable_ , so I was curious.” Hikaru widened his eyes, “Sorry for wondering,” I added sarcastically.

“I’m Kaoru.” Clone Dos said evenly.

“Shut up Hikaru,” replied Haruhi, her voice muffled by the mahogany her face was resting on.

The twin turned back towards me. “How’d you know it was me?” He hissed, his eyes narrowing and his muscles tensing up.

“I don’t know, lucky guess?” He blinked and nodded as his shoulders relaxed and he turned to greet his incoming twin.

In reality, I’d known a pair of _very_ shady pair of twins back in America. You learnt how to pick one out from the other fairly quickly unless you wanted to get fucked over. It’s the little things like the eyes and speaking manner that give the otherwise identical act away.

Nonetheless, it was pretty obvious these two didn’t _want_ to be identified for some ungodly reason, so I kept it at that. If they wanted to be nameless and faceless individuals only worth something in a pair, then so be it.

It’s not _my_ fucking problem.

I leaned over and tapped Haruhi on the shoulder. She turned to face me, rubbing her eyes.

“What?” she snapped while yawning.

“Well, somebody’s tired~!”

“Shut up Kaeden, I was up all night studying for my Physics test.”

“Ooh, Physics. There’s a good reason I didn’t take that class this year. But that’s not what I wanted to talk to you about. I talked to Kyoya.” At this Haruhi immediately jerked awake.

“What’d he say?”

I explained to her first my encounter with Tamaki, but when I spoke of his odd increase in maturity, her eyes shone with an emotion I couldn’t quite pick out. Probably surprise, god knows that boy has never had a serious moment of his life. The conversation soon switched over to my rather upsetting talk with Kyoya.

I didn’t go into detail about my apology; it still pisses me off that he played me like a fucking violin and left me all emotionally confused at the end, and no doubt got Tamaki (unknowingly of course, like the blonde idiot he is) to help make me actually _give a damn_ for once, which was obviously a wrong move on my part.

I did, however, go into detail about my debt and what I’d have to resort to to pay it off.

“Are you sure he didn’t mean 20 thousand _yen_ , not 20 thousand _dollars_?”

“Haruhi, I am 765% sure he meant dollars because he specifically referred to my debt as being valued at 2 million _yen_. Which, by the way, is a terrifying number. What the fuck kind of laptop is worth that much?”

“Rich bastards,” she answered simply before turning to face me with a small grin.

“What?”

“Well, I know that this isn’t a great situation for you, but I think the irony from this morning when you didn’t want to go with me to the host club is just too great.” I threw her a sideways smile.

“Huh, I forgot about that. It _is_ rather ironic isn’t it?” I stated, chuckling to myself.

“Well, I’ve only been at the host club for about a month or two now, but I can tell you that it is an… _acquired_ taste. It’ll take some time to get used to their rather bizarre antics.”

“Ugh, but _Haruhiii_ ,” I whined uselessly, “I don’t _want_ to be in the host club!”

“Better suck it up, you and I are in the same boat. Unless you can magically find 10 million yen to pay off both of our debts, I assume we’ll be stuck here for _quite_ a while.”

As I made to reply to her, a sharp voice range from the front of the room.

“ _Miss Hale_! Please cease your rude talking and return to your seat.”

As I evaluated my position in the middle of the aisle next to Haruhi’s desk, I groaned and dragged my chair back behind my own desk before plopping down and spending the rest of the class time playing the abomination that was Flappy Bird.


End file.
